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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29109939">GOLDEN</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/krabershot/pseuds/krabershot'>krabershot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Apex Legends (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(nsfw in chapter 5 only), Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Mirage | Elliott Witt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:47:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>57,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29109939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/krabershot/pseuds/krabershot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So yeah, maybe he snapped for a moment. Maybe he got a little irritated. But sometimes when the only questions you’re being asked are about who you go home to at night, and not about that sick mid air shot you landed with your Wingman during a rotation through the City, you might get a little grumpy. So when some reporter shoved their way to the front of the wall of people to stick their mic in his face and ask <i>“Has anyone managed to tie down the ever-flirtatious Mirage?”</i>, he might have responded without thinking.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bloodhound/Mirage | Elliott Witt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>124</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prelude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <i>you think I would know how this would go but maybe that's exactly what I wanted.</i>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey Bloodhound! Do you think I’d die if I fell from here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound glanced up and to the side, away from their scope, and sighed quietly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nr</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But you would certainly break something and leave our squad at a disadvantage,” they watched in disinterest as Mirage walked along the edge of the building with his arms out in a T shape, wobbling as he tried to keep his feet positioned along a straight line. “I also ask that you keep your voice down, Mirage. We do not need you attracting the unwanted attention of enemy squads.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean! We have </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, buddy! You’re like the Ter-Termin...Term...termination? That scary guy with the guns...Oh! Terminator! You’re ready for anything, right?” Mirage winked as he stepped along, jumping every now and again. Bloodhound rolled their eyes behind the large mask they wore and moved their sights back down their scope, looking out towards the City. They had just come in through Epicentre and Bloodhound found it unnerving that they had not encountered any enemy squads during their time there. The ring was closing in slowly behind them and Bloodhound knew squads often got caught out on rotation towards the east fragment of the City. Surely someone had to show themselves soon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound jumped in surprise when they heard a yelp coming from above them as Mirage tripped over his feet and slipped over the edge of the roof. In an instant, they had dropped their G7 into the snow and had their arms out to catch him. Mirage landed in their arms with a soft “oof” and was staring at them with wide eyes. “Nice catch,” he said, a little out of breath. Bloodhound was suddenly very aware of how close his face was to their goggles and they cleared their throat, dropping Mirage to his feet. A grin broke out across Mirage’s face as Bloodhound picked their gun back up off of the ground just in time for Octane to show himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t see anyone coming in from behind us but we gotta go,” he said, jogging on the spot. He was spinning an acid green butterfly knife in his hand; a nervous habit. “Ring. Moving. Now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rápidamente</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you see me up on the roof?” Mirage asked excitedly, pulling his backpack on. He stuck his arms back out and jumped along in a line down the incline towards the City, an imitation of his earlier stunt. “I fell off though. Hound caught me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane cackled and elbowed Mirage as he kept pace beside him, Bloodhound trailing behind them. “Should’ve used one of my jump pads, eh? Easier to get up there, </span>
  <em>
    <span>compadre</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And it makes for a much softer landing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound listened to them banter back and forth, keeping a watchful eye as they approached the City. The area was notorious for its fights in the mid-game- an almost certain death trap for anyone walking in unprepared. The rows and rows of tall buildings left so much space for enemy squads to hide and work with, and an additional height advantage on top of that. Hyper-aware of the noise their squadmates were making, Bloodhound whistled a quiet signal and Artur swooped in from above them. They let him rest upon their forearm for a moment before sending the raven out to scout the area ahead. He flew forward and circled one of the buildings along the outskirts, peering into the windows. Bloodhound watched as he disappeared behind a smaller building and sighed, their gloved hand reaching under their mask to rub their eye. It had been hours since they had allowed themself to rest for longer than five minutes. Being paired with both Mirage and Octane for this match meant that they had to play something dangerously close to a parental role, keeping their small idiot pups from running head first into the business end of an assault rifle. Between Mirage’s highly visible antics, Octane’s loud yelling, and only four squads left in the match, Bloodhound found themself almost at their wits end.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound jumped slightly at the touch to their shoulder and met eyes with Mirage. He looked mildly concerned, his head tilting to the side as he waited for them to respond. “My apologies. What were you saying?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He just asked which way you wanted to go, </span>
  <em>
    <span>cabeza</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Octane jumped in, appearing out from behind Mirage. He had his thumbs tucked into the straps of his backpack, wiggling his elbows restlessly. He looked like an excited school child and Bloodhound almost wanted to smile. “Ring’s not moving anymore and we are already inside the next ring, which is disappointing. Could’ve used a good run.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound blinked slowly and raised a finger to point towards a building sitting on the edge of the next ring marked on their map. “We can set up in that building and wait for the ring to start moving. The three of us can easily outrun its pace, so we move with it when the time comes. Artur can keep watch and let us know if there are any squads nearby.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love Artur,” Octane said, nodding. “A good bird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stared at him for a moment in surprise before tilting their head in a small nod. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Já</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He is,” they glanced over at the rows of awaiting buildings stretched out before them. “We must move. The sun shall soon disappear.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Together the three of them moved until they had reached the building Bloodhound had tagged on their maps. Once inside the second floor, Bloodhound leant against the closed door and dropped their pack to the ground. The cost of having such a large pack came in the form of too much weight pressed against their spine as they moved through the arena. They were by no means too small or weak to carry such a weight, but they were relieved to finally have a moment to breathe. Octane had already thrown himself into the corner of the room, sprawled across the floor with his own pack tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow and an arm thrown across the mask he wore. Within moments, Bloodhound heard his breathing even out, indicating that the small man was asleep. It always amazed Bloodhound to see how quickly Octane could plummet from one hundred all the way down to zero, falling asleep in mere seconds. If Bloodhound were to shake him, he would be ready to move again in an instant; an ability that Bloodhound felt a strange flash of jealousy for. It would always take them a considerable amount of time before they could even think about falling asleep, especially during the games. Paranoia and uncertainty always clouded their mind and kept them awake, a hand resting on the handle of their axe as they stared at closed doorways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone ever told you that you think too much?” Mirage drawled from where he sat on the table pushed against the back wall, his legs swinging as they dangled over the edge. “You gotta learn to relax, buddy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound scoffed, moving over towards Mirage. He had taken up the only table in the small room they moved into and Bloodhound found themselves sitting next to him, their thighs almost touching. “Someone on this squad has to think,” they kicked their heavy boot out at Mirage’s foot and he laughed. “It certainly will not be yourself or Octane.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ouch! I’m actually really smart y’know! I made all of this!” Mirage retorted, nudging against Bloodhound and gesturing to the holo tech covering his suit. His expression softened as he looked at them, his legs swinging back and forth. “See, this is what I mean. If you relaxed for a moment, people would be less intim-in..timid…..scared of you all the time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stared at him blankly. “Why would I want people to be less afraid of me?” their head cocked to the side, considering him. “We are engaged in a blood sport, are we not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, yeah. But outside of that...don’t you want to make some friends?” Mirage asked curiously. “No one is really sure what to think of you. You just seem to frighten a lot of people with how intense you are. Like a big scary mystery Legend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound frowned behind the mask. “I...have friends,” they said defensively. “I just do not see the point in having frivolous conversations.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How is it that you know so many words that I don’t,” Mirage laughed, ducking his head. “You sound like Caustic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s not that bad, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hálfviti</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bloodhound chastised. “I just think that his patience for you is a lot shorter than his patience for others. And if you must know, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>learn that word from him.” Mirage yawned suddenly, his eyes drooping, and Bloodhound pushed their shoulder against his. “Get some sleep, Mirage. I will wake you if you’re needed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure?” Mirage sounded almost concerned as he stood, stretching his arms. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I shall keep watch. Do not worry about me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage nodded slowly, lowering himself down onto the floor beside Octane. Bloodhound watched as he removed the goggles from on top of his head, dropping them to his chest, and settled his hands on one of his many belts. He seemed to consider the pros and cons of removing said belts before deciding against it. He pulled his pack across and shoved it next to Octane before lying down on it. He moved himself around, trying to get comfortable, before sighing and simply closing his eyes. Bloodhound pulled a sympathetic face as they watched him. His suit did not look the least bit comfortable to sleep in and the cold floor certainly would not have helped him any. The light from the slowly rising full moon filtered in through the windows in the door and streaked across his now still form, catching on the metal details of his suit. A smile ghosted over Bloodhound’s face when they noticed the patch of duct tape keeping a tear together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You gonna stare at me all night, sweetheart?” Bloodhound jumped at the sudden voice, a blush rising in their cheeks at being caught staring at their squad mate. Mirage was looking up at them, a grin stretched across his face. They opened their mouth to respond but Mirage winked at them and rolled himself over onto his side in another futile attempt to get comfortable. “I don’t mind. Quite f-flattered actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound didn’t respond and Mirage closed his eyes again. It was there that Bloodhound sat for hours; on the table, back against the wall, their G7 hugged to their chest until the moon was high in the sky. There was no sound to keep them company besides the breathing of their squadmates and Octane’s occasional sleepy mumblings as he rolled around. Bloodhound’s gaze was trained firmly on the door, watching through the glass panelling for any movement. They didn’t expect much. Squads usually set up camp for the night, preferring to move during the daylight. It was safer that way. They were so exhausted that they did not notice their eyes slowly closing but before they knew it, Bloodhound had fallen asleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hours later, they were snapped awake by a loud crash and a grinding noise, echoing around the room. Octane was on his feet in a single moment, grabbing his backpack and shaking Mirage awake. Bloodhound jolted up from where they had fallen asleep against the wall, watching in horror as a thermite grenade tore through the door, leaving them quickly exposed. Beyond the broken remains of the door, they could see the sun starting to rise between the buildings. Mirage threw on his gear as they were all forced to one side of the room by a small projectile thrown into the room. A single frag grenade clattered onto the floor and Bloodhound’s eyes widened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Grenade! Go! Go! Go!” Octane yelled, shoving them both.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane took the lead as they jumped from the room to avoid the blast. Half of Bloodhound’s personal shield was shattered from the impact of the frag and they fell forward with a grunt, crashing against the stair railing outside. Mirage was already halfway down the stairs, his Wingman in his hand. He fired two shots off into the distance and Bloodhound saw one figure from the enemy squad fall. Still disorientated from their unexpected awakening, Bloodhound fumbled with their gun and the remaining two members moved too quickly for them to track. An arc star embedded itself in the front of Bloodhound’s coat and they cried out as it exploded, shooting pain up their chest to their throat and immobilizing them. Mirage turned at the sound of Bloodhound’s distress and started back up the stairs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ellie, no! You go! I’ve got them,” Octane got behind Bloodhound and got his arms under theirs, dragging them down the stairs and towards some semblance of cover. He laid Bloodhound against a stone half wall and dug through his pack, finding and shoving the revival syringe into their chest with no warning. Bloodhound bit back a loud cry that threatened to give away their position and Octane muttered an apology. Something about being used to the needles. Forgot to warn them. Won’t happen again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it is I who should apologise,” Bloodhound rasped. “I fell asleep. I allowed them to get the upper hand in this battle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You hadn’t slept at all. Ellie and I should have taken shifts,” Octane shook his head, pulling Bloodhound’s sleeve up and applying the med kit needle to their forearm. His leg bounced impossibly fast as he glanced around the corner. Somewhere in the distance, Bloodhound could hear the familiar roar of a respawn ship flying overhead. “Come on, come on. This is taking too long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The med kit timed out and Octane was back on his feet, R99 at the ready as he rounded the side of the building. Bloodhound watched as he gunned down someone running for cover. They could see Mirage in the distance, sending a decoy out into the fray as he recharged his personal shield. Bloodhound recharged their own as quickly as they could using singular cells before pulling their G7 out and aiming down the sights. Someone was fast approaching Mirage’s hiding spot with their gun raised. Bloodhound took a moment to line their shot before pulling the trigger multiple times. The enemy hit the ground within seconds and left Mirage staring over at Bloodhound, throwing them a thumbs up and a grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stood and jogged over to Mirage, extending a hand to help him up. They took a second to scan the area, counting out the bodies on the ground. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Einn...tveir...þrír...fjórir.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Their head snapped up in time to see Octane vault over a half wall and kick someone in the shins, his gun nowhere to be seen. One of the lenses in his mask was shattered. “This fight is not even. Another squad attacks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of them stood back to back as they fought, bullets flying through the air around them. Someone was shooting at them from the roof but their angle meant the rising sun would have been directly in their line of vision, affecting their aim. Bloodhound scanned around, doing another quick count of bodies. One glance at their holo device told them that there was only one more squad remaining. Between the one person bleeding out on the floor, the one shooting from the roof, and the member that Octane had been engaged in a fist fight with somewhere, everybody was accounted for. Mirage reached back to grab their arm, pulling them towards the spot they had last seen Octane. Behind them, the hostile on the rooftop stopped firing, disappearing back inside the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound heard Octane before they saw him. He was laughing, the noise ringing out loud across the open courtyard, but Bloodhound could hear the exhaustion creeping along the edges. He had someone on the ground and Bloodhound watched as he turned a tight circle in excitement before slamming his metal leg into their face. Their nose wrinkled as they watched the man beneath Octane’s prosthetic die on the ground, his knuckles as bloodied as his victorious opponent’s. Octane looked up to catch Mirage’s eye, the bottom half of his mask down around his neck to reveal his sharp grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One left, huh?” he asked, wringing his hands in front of himself. “Let’s go, </span>
  <em>
    <span>pendejos</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They split up, heading in different directions to track down the last remaining member. Bloodhound wound their way through the abandoned bodies littering the streets of East City, their eyes catching on the fallen member of the last enemy squad. Her respawn banner was still softly glowing against her wrist and Bloodhound shifted their grip on their G7. Her squad mate had not come back for her banner. They knew there was no hope of respawning any teammates this late in the game. As the sole survivor, they knew to try and hide. Bloodhound noticed the door of the building before them was slightly ajar and their head tilted. Eyes travelling upward, they saw movement on the second floor. Artur sat along the edge of the window sill, squawking loudly, and Bloodhound nodded in response. They pushed their way into the building and headed for the stairs, fingers gripped tight around their gun. They could hear slight shuffling upstairs. The last alive was pacing back and forth nervously above them. They knew their fate awaited them. As soon as Bloodhound moved up the first step, the pacing ceased. There was a shaky breath from the room above and Bloodhound sighed, hauling themselves up the stairs to the next floor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before them stood a man that they did not recognize. Perhaps he was new to the games. He was visibly shaking, a pistol hanging loosely in his hand. An abandoned Sentinel sat propped up against the wall behind him. Bloodhound could see the slight shimmer of a white body shield and the man did not have a backpack. Freshly respawned. Thrown into the fray at the last moment, only to be left as the last member standing with no resources to help in a fight. Bloodhound worried their lip and shouldered their G7, watching as the man’s eyes widened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are no coward,” they said gently, pulling their hunting knife from it’s holster on their thigh. “You fought bravely and you shall die with </span>
  <em>
    <span>heiður</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This will be remembered.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re Bloodhound,” the man said quickly, his gaze stuck on their knife. Bloodhound’s head quirked in confusion as they waited for him to continue. He wetted his lips nervously and the pistol clattered onto the floor. “I’ve watched you win a thousand times. It is an honour to lose to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded in response. “May the Gods bless you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they approached, the man’s eyes closed. He had accepted his fate; knew that he would be cut down in moments if he faced his three opponents. Bloodhound placed their free hand on his shoulder and lined up the point of their hunting knife with his heart. They matched their breathing with his own and on the exhale, pushed the knife through his chest. The man’s face screwed up in intense pain as the knife pierced his heart and his hand came up to wrap around Bloodhound’s wrist. They felt his grip weaken as he fell down onto his knees before them, his breath wheezing out now. They knelt before him, hand still resting on his shoulder, and watched as he died before them. As his body hit the floor, Bloodhound heard the overheard announcement that they were victorious. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>⁝</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took no less than twenty minutes before the press was swarming the winning squad. Bloodhound, as per usual, had slipped out unnoticed once they had been allowed out of the arena. Elliot knew that they would be heading back to the med bay for the mandatory check up and then back to the shared Legend’s complex, hopefully to catch up on some much needed rest. Octavio was up on the main victory stage, waving his arms and answering questions animatedly. Elliot was standing beside him, answering a question here and there. He threw a decoy out and watched as it blew a kiss out to the crowd, the cameras around them flashing non stop. The press crowd often overwhelmed Elliot but he kept his composure. He knew it was only for a short while. He only had to keep being </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Mirage’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>for a few more minutes and then it was back to his apartment. Back to being Elliot for a little while. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot could feel annoyance lurking in the back of his mind. One of the frequently asked questions was the state of his love life. It was no secret that Mirage was a playboy, flirting with seemingly anything that moved, and it was the personal goal of every reporter to crack that shell. Who was the handsome trickster dating? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was </span>
  </em>
  <span>he dating? Which of the Legends had he slept with? Surely he’d be swamped with date invitations from fans? What did he look for in a partner?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So yeah, maybe he snapped for a moment. Maybe he got a little irritated. But sometimes when the only questions you’re being asked are about who you go home to at night, and not about that sick mid air shot you landed with your Wingman during a rotation through the City, you might get a little grumpy. So when some reporter shoved their way to the front of the wall of people to stick their mic in his face and ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Has anyone managed to tie down the ever-flirtatious Mirage?”</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he might have responded without thinking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure. Whatever. Yes I’m dating,” he near-growled, his warm smile dropping for a moment. The reporter faltered at his change of demeanor and he worked hard to bring a happy expression back. “I am, in fact, seeing someone but they wish to keep our relationship out of the media! Please respect their wishes. I’ll be happy to take any other questions but if that’s all, I’ll be going!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mirage! Mirage! I couldn’t help but notice the lack of gendered pronouns! Are you telling us that this secret relationship is with none other than your long time squad mate, Bloodhound? You two have been quite close in your recent match-ups!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, I’m dating Bloodhound,” Elliot said. His tone was teasing but when the crowd went completely silent, he quickly realised his mistake. The press thought he was dead serious. He started to quickly back track. “Wait, no, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beside him Octavio had gone quiet, his mouth hanging open, as the horde of press erupted into complete chaos. Everyone was pushing and shoving their way forward to try and get more information from Elliot. Panic bubbled in his chest as he laughed nervously, stumbling toward the back of the stage with half baked excuses. With one final wave to the crowd, he stepped off and out of sight. He could hear Octavio offering quick apologies before backing off the stage, joining him behind the curtain. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Ellie!” he said in awe, his eyes wide. He reached up to pull the rest of his mask down around his neck, huffing out a breath. “I thought I was your best friend, dude! We tell each other everything!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not everything,” Elliot said absently, gathering all of his things and heading out the door. Behind him he could hear Octavio yelling unspeakable things in his direction about honouring the bro code but he ignored it. His mind was going a million miles an hour. He now had a fuck up to fix. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought about stopping by his own apartment and maybe taking a shower but decided against it. He needed to get to Bloodhound before anything got printed so he could at least have some time to explain himself. So they- </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>could figure something out; a way out of this stupid accidental lie. It didn’t take long before he made it back to the Legends complex, making his way through the front door right into the circle of Legends standing in the communal area. He pushed his way past them all, teasing and calling out to him, to make his way upstairs to Bloodhound’s room. Steeling himself in front of the door for a moment, he took in a deep breath and shook himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You got this, Witt,” he murmured, raising his hand to knock. But before his knuckles could connect with wood, the door swung open to reveal Bloodhound. They were still in their gear from the match. “O-Oh. Bloodhound. H-Hi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elliot,” Bloodhound sounded exhausted, leaning against the doorframe. “I was not expecting you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah. About that,” Elliot laughed nervously and ran his hand through his hair, grimacing when he felt the dirt and gunpowder residue built up. “It’s sort of an emergency? Can I come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded, pushing the door further open for Elliot to make his way inside. Elliot found himself staring as he entered the room. He had only caught glimpses of Bloodhound’s room before, just mere seconds before their door would close, but he hadn’t actually ever been invited inside. He suspected not many people had. Their room was neatly organized, which he had expected, but he was intrigued by the plants lining the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Artur was nowhere to be seen but the bay window was wide open. Elliot turned a small circle, trying to keep his mouth from staying open as he took in all the small details, like the double bed covered in more pillows and blankets than Elliot would have expected for Bloodhound. He would have taken them for more of a ‘one pillow, one blanket, I sleep on my back with my eyes open’ sort of a person. The work bench along the wall that showed a disassembled mask and a half complete wooden carving of a bird. There was a large tank set up against the wall that was full of plants and rocks and looked like it housed something that Elliot couldn’t quite see. Bloodhound cleared their throat beside Elliot and he jumped, grinning sheepishly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I just.. I love what you’ve done with the place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is the emergency, Elliot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, so... the press started harassing me about my love life again after the match which is like, business as usual, am I right? But this time they were getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>super </span>
  </em>
  <span>personal about it all and God, do you ever just say something as a joke but because of the situation you’re in, nobody seems to understand that it’s a joke so p-people start to believe you and- wait, do you keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>frogs</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elliot, focus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Sorry. Anyway, I m-might have accidentally made a joke saying that we were in a relationship and the p-press took me completely seriously and now everyone thinks that we’re dating because I panicked and booked it out of there before anybody could even try to question me about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stared at him, expression unreadable from behind the mask. Silence stretched between the two of them and an uncomfortable laugh escaped Elliot. Nervous habit. He hated silence. He opened his mouth to say something more, maybe even apologise, but Bloodhound held up a finger to shut him up. Elliot’s mouth closed so fast he heard his teeth click together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You told the world….that we were involved romantically?” Bloodhound asked slowly, as if they were trying to process it. Elliot for the life of him could not figure out the tone behind their voice and it worried him. He nodded dumbly, afraid of what would happen to him if he did speak, and Bloodhound lowered their finger. They sat down on the edge of their bed and sighed. “Is there any way to reverse this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot backed up until he could lean against the wall. He bit his lip and folded his arms. “I could go back out there and tell them it was all a misunderstanding. Could tell them it was all a joke to get them off my back. Publicity stunt maybe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot blinked. “But what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You hesitated. I know what you look like when you get an idea,” Bloodhound pulled their gloves off, their head dipping down. “No matter how stupid your ideas can be, sometimes they have merit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot sucked in a deep breath and frowned. “Ok. I did have an idea. I just wasn’t sure how jazzed you would be about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jazzed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excited? Uh… thrilled?” Elliot shook his head, waving his arms. “Not the point. I didn’t know how you would </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Again, Elliot, as wonderful as it is to hear you talking... I need you to get to the point,” even without the aid of a facial expression, Elliot could hear the smile in Bloodhound’s voice. “Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just thought that we could keep it up for a bit. We could pretend to date for a couple of months. Go out on some public dates or hold hands somewhere. And then eventually we have a quiet break-up; tell everyone we need our space and to respect our privacy. Few months or so can pass and then we tell everyone we’ve decided to be friends.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would we do that?” Bloodhound sounded genuinely confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, for starters, it would get the press off my back for a hot minute about who I’m dating. Let me tell you, Hound, it gets real fuckin’ tiring getting the same damn questions from those idiots after every match. Not a single question about my performance in the arena, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hey! Who do you sleep with?’.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It doesn’t matter to them what I do in the arena, just who I’m interested in,” Elliot sighed and ran his hands down his face. He stared down at the ground for a moment before looking back over at Bloodhound, a small smirk on his face. “And I’ll be honest, it might help with your reputation too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound seemed to recoil slightly, their head tilting in visible confusion. “My </span>
  <em>
    <span>reputation</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your public image is….well, let’s just say that you are a very threatening individual,” Elliot pushed off from the wall and walked over to get a better look at the tank against their wall. “With the full body armour, the mask, the bird, the cryptic shit about how the Gods are always watching our every move...I could go on but the point is that you come across as a little bit unapproachable... I just think that if we do this, we could show the public a completely different side of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound folded their hands in their lap and sighed quietly. “Perhaps you are right,” Elliot jumped a little and turned to face Bloodhound, not expecting the response. They nodded once in affirmation, looking toward him. “I will play this little game of yours, Elliot. What are the rules?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The...the rules? W-what do you mean by rules?” Elliot stuttered, walking away from the frog tank to stand in front of Bloodhound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How long will this game last? I am assuming that we cannot tell others that it is a lie? How do you feel about being publicly affectionate?” Bloodhound pressed their questions, leaning forward to untie their boots. Elliot sat down on the bed next to them, his expression unreadable. “We need to establish boundaries...to avoid any unnecessary conflict and to make sure we are both comfortable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re taking this very well,” Elliot muttered, crossing his legs and placing his elbows on his knees. “Why are you so prepared for this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am simply thinking ahead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re very good at it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thinking ahead is half of my job, Elliot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Noted.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound made a small noise, pushing their boots aside. Their hands hovered at the edge of their mask, hesitating, before they pulled it off and stood up. Elliot tried not to stare as they carried the mask over to its place on their armour stand and placed it down. They seemed unsure as they faltered in front of the stand, second guessing something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose you will have to get used to seeing my face,” they said quietly. “And I shall have to get used to showing it to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to,” Elliot replied quickly, making sure he was looking away. “I would never ask you to do that if you weren’t comfortable, Hound.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard them laugh softly and suddenly they were back at his side, sitting down on the bed. “It is okay. It will just take some getting used to. It is not often that others see me without my usual barriers,” Bloodhound paused and Elliot realised he was holding his breath. “You are allowed to look at me, Elliot. You have seen my face before.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot angled his face back towards them, trying and most likely failing to be casual, and was met with Bloodhound’s face, closer than he was expecting. “Hi,” he smiled nervously and Bloodhound’s nose scrunched in amusement. “Fancy seeing you here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rules. Boundaries,” Bloodhound pushed directly back to the point, bringing their legs up onto the bed to cross them. “Where do you stand on these things? And how long will this be going on for?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot thought to himself for a moment, frowning. “I think that we could get away with a couple of months. We could say that we’ve already been together for a few months so if we let it go on for a bit, the story would be more believable,” Bloodhound nodded and moved their hand to encourage Elliot to keep speaking. He flushed and ducked his head. “On the subject of PDA, I am honestly okay with a lot of stuff. You’ve seen how close Tavi and I get sometimes and we aren’t even dating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will be honest with you, I do not know where I stand with public affection,” Bloodhound’s face twisted as they verbalised their thoughts. Elliot found himself staring, unable to look away from them. He thought it was incredibly endearing to see how they emoted, not used to talking to others without the barrier of a mask to hide their face behind. “I think that if you would let me hold your hand in public, we could start from there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re just lookin’ for an excuse to hold my hand.” Elliot teased.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” Bloodhound said back and Elliot blinked in surprise. They laughed and drummed their fingers against their thigh. “Okay. I assume that we will have to start behaving as a couple immediately?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Sorry. I didn’t really give you a lot of time,” Elliot apologised. He stood up and brushed the bottom of his suit off. Bloodhound stood with him and he turned to face them. He held out his hand awkwardly for Bloodhound to shake and they stared at it with amusement before extending their own. “P-Partners? Is that okay? Do you want me to call you anything in particular? I can call you whatever. Boyfriend, girlfriend, partner, other half, significant oth-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Partner is fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Partners.” Elliot shook their hand once before retracting it. He swung on the balls of his feet for a moment, wracking his brain for something to say. He felt unsure of himself. It was one of the only conversations he had held with Bloodhound where he had to be Elliot; couldn’t find solace in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mirage</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But he could try. He took in a deep breath and summoned the award-winning smile back onto his face, throwing them a wink. “You gotta promise me one thing though, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what is it?”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<span>“As hard as it’s gonna be, you can’t fall in love with me.” Bloodhound shook their head and Elliot laughed, making his way toward the door. He opened it, letting himself out and waved goodbye, before closing it behind himself. He stood there for a moment with his head reeling. He could hear a handful of the other Legends downstairs talking amongst themselves. He could definitely hear Octavio and Ajay yelling. With a sigh, he pushed himself off of Bloodhound’s door and made his way down the stairs. He needed to go home. He needed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>shower</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi!! this is almost a year long project that i am <i>so</i> excited to finally start uploading!</p><p>as always, come talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> i hope you all have a wonderful day :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. crush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> &amp; I’m just tryna play it cool now. but that’s not what I wanna do now </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elliot clung to the bar of the platform he was standing on, trying to stay as calm as possible. He was loath to admit it but anytime it came time to drop out of the ship, he was filled with an immense fear. Something about throwing yourself out of a moving vehicle a thousand metres in the air, trusting only the jet boosters provided to you by the Games organizers and your own depth perception to make it to safe ground. His grip on the bar tightened as the countdown reached zero and the platform shuddered, lowering down and out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Beside him on the platform stood Bloodhound and Wraith. The original picks for his squad had been Wraith and Wattson but a last minute sponsor had stepped in and made sure Elliot had been paired with Bloodhound. He knew what they all wanted; it was the first game since Elliot’s slip up. They wanted a show. Bloodhound was knelt on the platform, looking over the side as they flew over World’s Edge. It made Elliot’s stomach turn to think about being so casually close to the drop and he squeezed his eyes shut. Around them, squads were leaving the drop ship and Wraith was watching them all fall. She turned her gaze to Elliot and raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m the jumpmaster,” she said, the comm piece she wore crackling around her words as the wind whipped past them. “Any suggestions?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound stood and fiddled with their holo device, pinging somewhere on the map. “Let’s land here.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot shuddered as he readjusted the jets slung around his waist. It was fucking cold standing on the platform. Hell, it was cold down in the arena. Sometimes he missed the blistering heat of King’s Canyon but he supposed it was easier to get out of the snow and find warmth than to get stuck out in the desert sand. Bloodhound’s hand dropped  onto his shoulder and though he couldn’t see their face, he knew they were concerned. Elliot shook himself and plastered a smile over his face. He held both of his thumbs up and Bloodhound nodded, dropping off the side of the platform. Wraith took a deep breath and followed, the hair loose around her face flying around in an almost comical fashion. Elliot jumped from foot to foot and decided</span>
  <em>
    <span> fuck it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, jumping off the drop ship and following his squad mates straight down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The match itself started fairly standard. Nothing particularly exciting had happened for the past couple of hours and Mirage was even starting to get a little bit bored. His squad had spent the past hours roaming through Skyhook and looting their way through the buildings. They had dropped close to the end of the drop ship’s track so they hadn’t come across any full squads in the area yet. Bloodhound had spotted a single person in the distance when they had first landed but gave orders to not pursue. They hadn’t been sure of the rest of the enemy’s squad and no one was properly geared up yet. No need to get into any unnecessary fights. Mirage was grateful; he hadn’t even found a gun yet so he wouldn’t have been any help to the team at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Round three was beginning to close around them as Bloodhound led the squad along their rotation through towards the train yard. They had announced it would be easier to cut through the mountain than to go around the Drill Site, so they were moving the squad through the dimly lit tunnel. Wraith was close by their side, flipping her signature knife through her fingers. Mirage was trailing along behind them a couple of steps back. He was beginning to get a little bit antsy with the lack of action they had seen but he was never one to start a fight. He produced a decoy and watched as it fell into step beside him, throwing out finger guns and smiles to no one in particular. He rolled his eyes as it collided with a box and disintegrated into a shower of baby blue pixels. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to work on their collision.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mirage jumped as Bloodhound appeared next to him. “W-What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The collision of your holograms. You will need to work on it,” they pressed, nodding towards the offending box. “I could help you one day. We could train them to climb things. Interact with their surroundings. Perhaps we could program them to do as you do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mirage grinned and bumped his shoulder against Bloodhound’s. “You wanna help me workshop my decoys? Awful sweet of you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s laugh was so soft that Mirage barely picked it up. They reached out and threaded their fingers through Mirage’s. He almost pulled away in confusion before he remembered their shared ruse. “Perhaps we could call it a date.” they teased. They had gotten so close that Mirage could hear their quiet breathing through the mask. If he moved forward an inch, his nose could touch the cold metal of their rebreather. He could even see the scars snaking down behind the glass of their goggles.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’d like that,” he said, his voice hushed as he stared through the eyes of Bloodhound’s mask. There was a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as Bloodhound squeezed his hand.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you two are done, we need to keep moving,” Wraith called out from the front of the tunnel. Her face looked stern but her tone was light. “Ring’s closing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mirage stuck his tongue out at her and tugged Bloodhound to the entrance, their hands still linked. His smile fell away when he noticed that all of the supply crates surrounding the tunnel’s opening were wide open and completely empty. Nothing to worry about on it’s own, but the way that Bloodhound tensed had Mirage worried. Bloodhound’s hand slipped out of his as they moved over to kneel by the crate furthest away from the opening. Their hand ghosted over a mark across the concrete and Mirage opened his mouth to ask them what they had found. Before he could say anything, Wraith grabbed his arm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Someone’s got a shot on me,” she said quickly, her grey eyes darting around. Mirage tugged her down behind a supply crate, using the open lid as cover. “I’m pretty sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A squad is nearby. The tracks lead towards the train yard,” Bloodhound relayed through the comms piece. Mirage peeked over the edge of the supply crate but couldn’t spot anything. “These footprints are very recent.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to get behind cover,” Mirage called back. Bloodhound’s head snapped over to look at him, confused. “Wraith’s fairly sure someone has a shot on us. Wouldn’t want your pretty head to get hurt now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s gun was out in an instant, the sights aiming down towards the train yard to try and locate the squad looking at them. Mirage cautiously stuck his head out of cover with his Sentinel in an attempt to help with the recon but he couldn’t spot any movement around the abandoned train cars scattered around the yard. Bloodhound inched forward to sit behind the small wire fence surrounding the entrance to the tunnel and Mirage saw them scan the area ahead. They stiffened and raised 3 fingers before pointing up to the high platform on the left side of the field. A full squad with the high ground.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Wraith or Mirage could say a word, Bloodhound was on the move and running toward the zip line attached to the structure. They jumped, clipping their belt to the line and boosting upward toward the squad. Mirage watched with wide eyes as they reached the top and emptied a magazine into one member before jumping back onto the zip line, stopping themselves to hang suspended under the structure. Wraith ran toward them, an arc star glinting in her hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Blood, catch!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She threw the arc star in a wide arc and Bloodhound caught it in their hand. Mirage flinched on it’s impact but shook himself; friendly fire was never a factor in the arena. Bloodhound boosted back up into the waiting squad, arc star at the ready, and Mirage could hear their snarl through the comms as it exploded. Wraith hooked herself onto the zipline and made her way up to help Bloodhound with the two standing members while Mirage stood still, dumbfounded. His squad was moving too fast for him to keep up. He felt two steps behind them both. He watched from afar as his two teammates decimated a full squad with perfect coordination before he could even holster his gun to join them faster. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The two of them dropped back and met with Mirage, still set up near the open supply bins as he kept his eyes on the train yard. He had heard a gunshot from a few miles in that direction. Probably someone aiming for one of the cargo bots rolling around but he was still wary that they were not the only squad left in the area. Wraith sat herself down on the concrete beside Mirage and Bloodhound shook their head. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We cannot rest here. It is too open,” they threw something to Mirage and he caught it. “A new extended magazine for your Wingman. I found it on one of the bodies.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aw, baby, thank you! You’re lookin’ out for me,” Mirage grinned as he fiddled with his gun, looking up at them through his eyelashes. “You really </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>like me, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s mask was unreadable as they stared at Mirage. Wraith was biting her lip, holding back laughter beside him as she looked back and forth between them. Mirage knew she enjoyed watching him flirt with the more stoic Legends to try to get a rise out of them and he also knew she had been convinced Mirage was in love with Bloodhound. All of his arguments against the matter had to be dropped the moment he announced their relationship. He had endured many hours of constant teasing and “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I fucking knew it</span>
  </em>
  <span>” from her when she finally caught up to him afterwards. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are...welcome,” Bloodhound cleared their throat and turned stiffly. “We must move. We will rotate through the right of the train yard.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wraith elbowed Mirage with a wide grin as they both stood up. He bit back a laugh and kicked at her, making a face. He knew the teasing would increase tenfold but he never imagined it would happen inside the arena. Wraith was well known for how seriously she took the games, frequenting the leaderboard for kills and holding close to the record for most wins under her belt. To see her laughing and trying to tease Mirage for flirting was refreshing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She held his arm for a moment as Bloodhound started towards the side of the train yard. Mirage stayed behind for a moment, warily keeping an eye on them as they climbed up a hill and eventually disappeared from view. Wraith seemed nervous as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I just wanted to say that I’m happy for you,” she held her arm to her side, her fingers flexing. “You two make a really good pair. I’m just sorry that you guys had to tell everyone like that. I can’t imagine if that had happened to Nat and I.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, it’s all good,” Elliot said easily, shrugging one shoulder. “It would’ve come out eventually.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wraith studied his face for a moment and it was Elliot’s turn to shift nervously. “As long as you’re happy...and you seem it. Happy, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A loud shot ringing across the field had the two of them scrambling for their guns, but it was unneeded. Bloodhound fired off several more shots before lowering their gun, murmuring an apology to them both. Overhead the announcer notified the arena of a new kill leader, the crown symbol glinting across Bloodhound’s holo device for a single moment. Bloodhound shouldered their gun and Mirage grinned wide, moving towards them in excitement.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, that was incredible!” he slung his arm across their shoulders, leaning his head in to bump it against the side of Bloodhound’s mask. “What a shot!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A solo squad?” Wraith asked, her voice layered with concern. Bloodhound nodded once and she sighed with audible relief. “We have to keep moving. Those gunshots will have attracted attention.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The three moved in toward the train yard, Bloodhound scanning ahead for any signs of life. Near the entrance, they found some footprints but gave their squad the go ahead to keep pushing forward. They deemed the footprints too old to be of any concern. Artur moved silently above them, keeping an eye open from the high ground. They all split up upon entering the yard. Wraith made her way towards the back buildings, the pistol she carried in her hand out and ready to fire. Mirage stuck near the front, wanting to keep watch as the ring closed in behind them. Maybe they could find a straggler trying to sneak their way past or catch a squad off guard and still recovering from being exposed to the ring’s effects. Bloodhound had attached themself to a zipline and made their way up to the suspended train carriages in search of extra ammunition. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mirage twirled his Wingman around his finger as he walked, practising tricks and sleight of hand with the weapon. Making the pistol disappear and reappear was one of his signature ‘Mirage’ moves and it had become something of a comfort movement out in the arena. Something mechanical with set steps that he could run through a million times. Something to keep himself centered. As he walked, he picked up a new body shield, this one a higher level than the one he already wore. As he straightened back up, he groaned and tried cracking his back. The heavy weight of the unfamiliar sniper against his spine had been throwing his rhythm off, slowing him down and leaving an ache in his bones. It was something he was trying out; using one of the many sniper rifles offered in the Games. Mirage had never been known for his skills in aiming at long range targets but he had accepted the challenge thrown at him by a reporter easy enough. Maybe running a Sentinel with a Wingman wasn’t his most calculated decision out in the ring, but you had to give him points for trying, right? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The familiar sound of a zipline started above Mirage’s head and he looked up absently, flicking the safety of the Wingman on and off. He watched the slim figure glide across the zipline, the glare of the sun behind them wiping any identifying features. Mirage frowned, reaching his free hand up to shield his eyes. Something wasn’t right about the shape moving above him. He knew Bloodhound’s shape. That wasn’t Bloodhound’s shape. Freshly polished steel glinted against the sun and Mirage fumbled with his comms device. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bloodhound, incoming!” he called out, aiming the sights of the Wingman upward. “On you!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He fired off a couple of shots towards the enemy above but between his less than ideal positioning, the glare of the sun, and the moving target, all of his bullets missed. Before he could reload, the person on the zipline had disappeared inside the suspended train carriage. The sound of a sub machine’s magazine emptying overheard made Elliot’s blood run cold and he set off at a sprint towards the upward zipline dangling several feet away. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bloodhound? Do you copy?” Wraith’s voice filtered through the piece in Mirage’s ear as he moved up the zipline. One glance across the train yard confirmed she was on her way over towards the gun shots. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As Mirage stumbled up into the train compartment, he raised his gun towards the figure he found standing at the other end. He let out the breath he had been holding when he saw it was Bloodhound. They were standing over someone, their handaxe hanging loosely in their grip. Their head turned slightly when Mirage took a step forward and looked down at the person lying across the cold metal floor. He didn’t recognize their face but found himself turning his eyes away when he saw the bloodied mess Bloodhound had made of their chest.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sweetheart, are you okay?” Mirage asked, walking forward with more confidence now that he could see them seemingly uninjured. “You know that’s not the last of that squad. We gotta get ready to keep moving.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s hand twitched and they sighed. They slid the handaxe back into its holster and rolled their shoulders. “I am fine. I was caught off guard but gained the upper hand,” their mask turned to face Mirage and he found himself curious about the emotion behind it. Their voice had never betrayed them, never once shook. He never knew what they were thinking. “Their squad will be here shortly. Let us go.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of the zipline startled them both, the two of them reaching for their guns as quickly as they could, but it was only Wraith. She looked concerned as she took in the scene before her. “I spotted two people on the other side of the yard. I guess I know where the third is now,” she pointedly looked down at the body on the floor. “Are we sticking around to fight or are we leaving again?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound took a step forward to answer but was cut off by a single gunshot ringing out across the train yard. The bullet smashed through their personal shield and Mirage found himself cursing that he hadn’t given them the higher level he had found instead of taking it for himself. Bloodhound cried out as they stumbled, tripping and falling off of the suspended train compartment. Mirage yelped and tried to catch them as they fell but he missed their hand and could only watch as they hit the ground below. They lay across the dry grass with their hand coming up to press shakily against the wound in their chest, blood starting to blossom out from under their armour. Mirage moved to attach himself to the zipline to slide down and check if they were okay but Wraith’s grip on his sleeve pulled him back. He turned back to her, angry, but stopped when he saw the way she was staring out across the open field. Her eyes were vacant as her fingers dug into his arm, her eyebrows knitted into a small frown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s another squad,” she said, blinking rapidly. She shook herself slightly and seemed to come back to herself, her grip relaxing on his arm. “That shot came from the old drill site. Not the train yard.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mirage cast a worried look towards Bloodhound. They were off the ground, leaning against a supply crate with a phoenix kit in their hands. Mirage was counting the seconds out in his head, waiting for the flash of shields to bring him comfort they were going to be okay. He heard Wraith mutter something quietly behind him and saw a projectile tossed in a wide arc towards them from the right. It sparked in the sun as it turned tail over end through the air and Mirage could only watch in fear as it clattered to the ground at Bloodhound’s feet. They still held the incomplete phoenix kit in their hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Grenade, watch out!” he yelled but it was too late. The thermite exploded in a line along the grass and Mirage heard Bloodhound cry out in pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled his Sentinel from his back and aimed down the sights towards the nearby squad. He could see two members of a squad, both aiming toward the suspended compartments. One of them lowered their gun for a moment and Mirage fired, cracking them right in the chest. They stumbled back and moved behind cover, out of sight to presumably heal up their shields. Wraith took advantage of the cover fire to phase down the zipline and over to Bloodhound. Mirage kept his sniper trained on the enemy team, firing off shots anytime either of them peeked their heads over the minimal cover to keep them from pushing on Mirage’s more vulnerable team. Below, Wraith knelt beside Bloodhound and waved to Mirage, signalling him down. He holstered the Sentinel, pulling out his trusty pistol instead. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Mirage hit the ground, he sent a decoy out walking behind him, throwing in a reload animation for effect as he slid towards his squad mates. The enemies started blasting as soon as the decoy showed itself but it gave Mirage the cover he needed to get over to his team. He peeked his head over but quickly ducked back when bullets flew past his head, missing by a single hair. Wraith tugged on Mirage’s sleeve and pointed out towards the drill site. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can portal us out that way. Behind the enemy team. Near the edge of the ring. We can heal up and sneak up on them,” she said, her other hand closing into a fist. Mirage could already see the void energy curling around her arm. “Wait here until I open the other end and give the all clear.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wraith raised her hand and one end of her portal appeared, the void energy humming loudly. She stepped through it and Mirage waited for it to open back up. Another grenade clattered to the concrete beside them and Mirage pulled Bloodhound into his arms, away from the blast. Through the sharp ringing in his ears, he could hear them coughing. They were pulling on the front of his suit, their hand tangled in one of the straps across his chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can get the revival syringe for you in two seconds, babe, we’re just waitin’ on Wraith to get us out of here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sorry, Elliot,” they shuddered in his arms for a moment, the edges of their coat still smoking from the thermite, and Elliot cast a panicked glance down. Where the hell had Wraith gone? “I thought we would be safe up there. I had not considered the open windows. It was foolish of me to step out of cover.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot pushed his hair back out of his face and sighed. “Not your fault, Hound.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The portal opened in front of them and Elliot shook himself back into action, getting his arms under Bloodhound to pull them through to safety. Before they could move, Wraith’s voice crackled in through the comms. Despite the chaos, she still sounded calm. “Don’t take that portal. I ran into another squad,” they could hear gunshots in the distance and Elliot swore. “I can’t get back to my end of the portal.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay where you are. Hide if you can,” Bloodhound said into their comm piece. They stopped for a moment to cough and when they spoke again, their voice was rasping.“The Allfather may honour us with a victory yet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Copy that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound tugged on the front of Elliot’s suit again, still curled up in his arms. He looked down at them as he tried to fumble his backpack off. “Elliot, you need to go,” they said. Elliot shook his head quickly and they reached up a hand to cup his jaw. “You do not have the time to get me back into this fight. You can use your illusions and get away. You must fight on without me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be fucking stupid, I’m not leaving you behind.” Elliot’s voice was desperate. He didn’t want to leave them behind. There was no way of knowing whether he could come back for their banner. He didn’t even know if Wraith was going to survive or where her body would end up if she didn’t. Bloodhound pulled Elliot down by the front straps and his forehead ended up pressed against their own through the mask. He could hear their uneven breathing filtering through the rebreather as he stared down at them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You must go. They are pushing forward.” Elliot made a small noise of distress as he realised he could hear the squad running closer, their loud footsteps almost on top of them. Beside them, the portal Wraith left behind pulsed a final time before closing. Bloodhound fumbled with something on their belt before shoving it into Elliot’s hands and pushing him away. “Fight on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ást</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>slátra</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before Mirage could react, shots were being fired towards him from the enemy team that had turned the corner and reached their position. One of the bullets grazed his arm as he activated his holo-suit, deploying several decoys and cloaking himself entirely. Using the timed cover, he sprinted across the train yard and made his way down into the tunnels connecting to the Harvester. The closing ring washed over him as he emerged from the other end of the tunnel and it sent pain like broken glass through his body. He bit his lip to hold back any whimpers of pain as he pushed his way forward, aiming to wrap around the mountainside to access the train yard from a new direction. He could hear the gunfire in the distance cease and two quiet beeps on his holo device told him both his team mates had been finished off. Mirage looked down and opened his hand to see the case holding a self-revival syringe that Bloodhound had pushed to him before he ran. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>⁝</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the match went about as well as could be expected for a solo man with nothing but a pistol and an unfamiliar sniper rifle with dwindling supplies. Elliot would argue that he did as well as he could have, given the circumstances. What could he have done differently against the business end of a Peacekeeper pressed against his back in the final circle? Three against one was never going to be a fair fight but he made sure to go out kicking, his Wingman hitting its shots as he turned. The sound of the gunfire was so deafening, he didn’t hear Octane coming up behind him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waking up back in the med bay felt as hellish as it always did. The fluorescent lights near-blinded Elliot as he sat up in the uncomfortable bed, groaning loudly. Pain blossomed out from the since-healed shotgun blast to the centre of his spine, the phantom agony curling its way across his entire body. A budding migraine was throbbing behind his eyes and he closed them again, breathing in through his nose. He let his head fall down until his chin reached his chest and let the breath out slowly, resting his forehead against the palms of his hands. He heard something shift beside him and he let one of his eyes crack back open. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound sat in a chair beside his bed, reclining back with their arms folded over their chest. The eyes of their mask stared forward, devoid of emotion, but the tell-tale rise and fall of their breathing told Elliot they were asleep. They twitched again, mumbling something in their sleep, and Elliot grinned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do I owe the pleasure, Hound?” he quipped quietly. The sound of his voice startled them awake and Elliot would have paid real money to see their face behind the mask. “Relax, sweetheart. Just me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Elliot,” their voice was still laced with sleep, gravelly and low. “You are awake.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You aren’t,” Elliot teased, fighting back a grimace of pain as he tried to sit up straight again. The chatter of all the other people in the med bay droned in the background and he tried to ignore it. “What’s got you falling asleep at my bedside, pumpkin?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was simply concerned for your wellbeing. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>hit point blank with one of the most powerful shotguns inside of the arena,” Elliot pulled a face at the reminder and they raised a hand. “And before you try to apologise to me for not winning the championship, I do not wish to hear it. As long as you come back safe and alive, the championship title does not matter to me. There are always going to be more games. We will fight again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot blinked, not expecting such a genuine response. “Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound rolled their shoulders, leaning forward in the chair. They were still in the armour they wore in the arena. Elliot could see the lasting damage from the thermite’s fire eating away at the edges of their coat. Their usual pouches and belts were missing. Their head cocked to the side, tilting towards the door. “There is also a large number of reporters waiting for you to awaken. I thought it might be suspicious for me to leave the med bay without you, seeing as they all think that we are in a relationship.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do they want me?” Elliot asked, genuinely bewildered. He was used to being swarmed after he won a match but a loss was hardly something to get excited about.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe it has something to do with our… final exchanges in the ring,” there was something that changed in Bloodhound’s voice and Elliot looked at them. They shifted in their chair again. “Wraith says that the public found my sacrifice romantic. They found the tragedy of the situation to be appealing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot sighed and let his head drop back into his hands, ignoring the flash of pain pulsing behind his eyes. “I feel like I gotta apologise again, Hound.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dragging you into all of this. I never should have told them we were dating.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound let out a little laugh and shrugged. “It is no worry. It is like you said to me... I can show them a different side of myself. Someone who is caring. Improve upon my public image,” they stood up slowly, stretching their arms out. “I was also told that you are allowed to leave as soon as you are able. None of your injuries will be permanent. You have been recommended bed rest.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot found himself staring at the closed door in the distance, suddenly very aware of the cameras and notepads he now knew were waiting for him out there. The med staff did a good enough job keeping the hordes of reporters at bay but groups always found their way inside. He pulled his legs to the side and gingerly tested them against the floor. Pain shot out from his back but he managed to find his footing, standing up with only a small stumble. Bloodhound moved beside him with their hands hovering just above him, ready to help as soon as he gave the word, and the gesture warmed Elliot’s heart. He caught sight of his holo-suit folded on the table beside his bed and wrinkled his nose, thinking about the repairs that would need to be made to the suit when he got home. Looking down, he saw that he was in a pair of standard issue sweatpants and a soft cotton shirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I look like a mess,” he said mournfully, one hand coming up to run through his dirty hair. It fell back down against his face and Elliot sighed dramatically. He shuffled his feet back into his boots, not bothering to tie the laces. “I don’t know if I can go out there looking like this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Behind the mask, Bloodhound rolled their eyes and they shrugged off their huge coat. They dropped it onto the bed wordlessly and Elliot tried to keep his mouth closed. This was the only time that Elliot had ever seen Bloodhound without some form of coat covering them completely and he tried not to stare at their arms as they crossed back over Bloodhound’s chest. Elliot took the coat with a quiet thanks, internally insisting to himself that the breathlessness was from the pain. The heavy material was still warm as Elliot slipped the coat on. Bloodhound waited until Elliot had picked up his duffel bag before extending a hand to him. He took it, his eyes wide, and let himself be led towards the med bay exit, distracting by the way the fabric of their gloves felt against his hand. His head felt light as Bloodhound opened the doors and gently ushered him through, their hand still linked with his own.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Flashing lights filled his vision as a swarm of press came to life before the two of them. Elliot tried his best to keep the discomfort from his face, feeling envious of Bloodhound’s mask. Bloodhound was a solid weight by his side as they pushed their way through the reporters, dodging questions with ease. Elliot smiled and waved and kept the ever growing panic from bubbling over. One reporter in particular caught the edge of the coat and tugged him backwards, the end of their question sticking in Elliot’s ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he said, turning back around. Bloodhound came to a halt, waiting patiently for him to keep walking, but Elliot had stopped completely. “What did you say?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The reporter’s face was smug as he spoke, clearly proud he got Elliot to bite. “I asked if you had any opinions on the theory that this little romance will have a negative impact on both of your performances in the ring.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“W-What? I d-don’t see how-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man cut him off, pressing forward with his recorder in hand. “I mean, just today we saw you both too caught up in each other to survive long enough to earn the championship. Will this be a running theme in your upcoming games? What about you, Bloodhound? Do you have anything to say on the matter?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe that my feelings for Elliot will have a positive effect on how I fight within the arena. I now have something worth hunting for,” Bloodhound said mildly. “Now if you do not mind, I would like to take my boyfriend home for some well needed rest. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They tugged on Elliot’s hand, pulling him out of the crowd and towards a waiting car. Once inside, Elliot closed his eyes. The cameras outside continued to flash and the reporters still yelled their questions but he ignored them. Bloodhound was quiet beside him, their hands resting on their thighs. They relayed his address to the driver and the car pulled away from the med bay, driving outside the Games compound and towards his home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The drive home was silent as Bloodhound stared out the window. Elliot couldn’t seem to sit still, shifting back and forth in his seat as the car drove along. His knee was bouncing anxiously and his hands were wringing together in his lap, a frown etched into his face as he stared ahead. His mind was going a million miles a second as he tried to piece together what the reporter had said. Was their performance in the ring getting affected by this relationship? How would they even know? It had only been one game. Surely not every game was going to be like that. He wasn’t going to hold Bloodhound back from any more championships...was he?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s hand closed over Elliot’s own and he jumped, not expecting the contact. Their fingers threaded through his, stilling his hand against his thigh, as they continued to stare out the window. Elliot muttered an apology and they shook their head, squeezing his hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are thinking very hard about something,” they said quietly. Their mask turned slightly to face Elliot. “If it is about what that reporter said, I must reassure you that you did not take this championship from me. If the Gods had willed it, we would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>slátra</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was simply not the path chosen for today.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But if I had just-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever has happened is in the past. We cannot change it. There is no use placing blame on anybody, Elliot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot huffed out a deep breath, leaning back against the car seat. “I know I shouldn’t let it get to me. What those reporters say, I mean. It’s stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound squeezed his hand once more; a comforting gesture. “It is not stupid to be affected by their harsh words. Just remember that you are a fearsome warrior. They cannot take that from you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something in Elliot’s heart clenched and he leant his head against the window. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you,” he was silent for a moment before he wiggled their joined hands with a smile. “You like holding my hand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed, bringing their joined hands over to rest on their own thigh. “Perhaps I do.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tension in the car bled away slowly and Elliot closed his eyes. Bloodhound’s words settled in Elliot’s chest and found a home there, making him feel more at ease. But with his eyes now closed and his thoughts somewhat calm, Elliot’s injuries crept up on him. Dull pain was beginning to stretch across his back and he was so tired. He shouldn’t be tired. He had slept for God knows how many hours in the med bay. But Bloodhound’s hand was a solid comforting weight against his own and the rumbling of the car’s engine was fading into the background and Elliot fell asleep against the window. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he woke, Bloodhound was kneeling beside him, outside the car. Their head was tilted and their hand was resting on his shoulder. “Oh. Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is alright. I did not wish to wake you but we have arrived,” Bloodhound said, offering their other hand to Elliot. He took it and allowed himself to be pulled from the car, thanking the driver as he left. Bloodhound closed the car door behind him and shouldered both of their bags against Elliot’s weak protests. He followed them up to the entrance of his small house until they stopped. Elliot fumbled through his bag, still attached to Bloodhound’s shoulder, and found his keys. Unlocking the door, he took a step inside and turned back to face them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you….do you want to come in?” he asked. They shifted from foot to foot and nodded, following him inside and closing the door behind them both. “Sorry if the place is a mess.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot grabbed his own bag from Bloodhound and set it down by the front door. He walked through to his open kitchen and leant against the counter for a moment, watching as Bloodhound awkwardly looked around from one spot. They seemed almost nervous as they took in their surroundings, their duffel bag hanging off of one shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can sit if you want,” Elliot said, smiling. “I got a bar stool with your name on it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound walked over and moved to the breakfast bar, their bag dropped at their feet. “I do not think I have ever been inside of your house before, Elliot,” they mused, still looking around as they sat. “It is quite nice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot opened his fridge and peered inside, screwing up his nose when he took note of how empty it was looking. He would have to make a grocery run soon. “It’s not big but it’s home,” he said, grabbing a container from the fridge and closing the door. “I bought it after my second championship. First winnings went straight to my ma.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded slowly, watching as Elliot set the container down on the breakfast bar. He grabbed a loaf of sourdough bread, making quick work of slicing chunks off and onto a plate. “I like the...design...I am not quite sure what to call it,” Elliot looked up to see Bloodhound gesturing above them and he grinned. “The...open….second floor?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s called a loft,” he said, moving the plate of bread across to sit beside the mystery container. “My bedroom is upstairs. It’s kind of like having a balcony inside your house but the view is the rest of your house. If that makes any sort of sense.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed, removing their gloves and shoving them inside their duffel bag. “I think so.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot opened the container and slid it towards Bloodhound, who simply stared at it. “Hummus,” Elliot stated, staring at them expectantly. “Food.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have..never had this,” Bloodhound said, their voice uncertain. They reached up and unlatched their mask, taking it off of their head. Elliot tried not to stare as they pulled their hair out of the ponytail it had been kept in and placed the mask down on top of their duffel bag. “What do I do with it?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot grabbed a piece of bread and dragged it through the hummus, bringing it up to Bloodhound. “You eat it,” he teased, holding it out to them. Bloodhound rolled their eyes and leant forward, eating the bread straight from Elliot’s hand. He immediately went red and started stuttering. “Y-You uh, you just- you put it on like, bread, or even some vegetables and you can just- it’s a snack, I guess. I made it. The bread too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not know that you baked,” Bloodhound said once their mouth was empty. They leant forward again to get another piece of bread. “This is good. I like this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-Yeah, my mother taught me everything I know,” Elliot laughed nervously. “I like cooking. It’s good stress relief.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand that. I was taught to hunt and to cook for myself by Artur.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Artur? Like your bird?” Elliot asked, confused. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound let out a quiet laugh, their head dipping down. “No, my apologies. Artur is named after my late uncle... A sign of respect.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is alright, Elliot. Maybe I will tell you all about him one day,” Bloodhound looked back up at Elliot, cocking an eyebrow. “After all, we are now dating. We have much to tell each other, I am sure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot leant against the breakfast bar and grabbed more bread, meeting Bloodhound’s eyes. “We have an interesting couple of months ahead of us.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>new chapter! so many people commented on chap1, it made me so happy ; _ ; im so glad people are liking golden so far! also if anyone is curious about my bloodhound face headcanon for the fic, roboattacksquid's art <a href="https://twitter.com/RoboattackSquid/status/1291051630465556480">here</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/RoboattackSquid/status/1288581904824963072">here</a> is my favourite headcanon ! look at how cute they are.. </p>
<p>as always, you can come talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> and i hope you're all having a wonderful day &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. dinner & diatribes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> oh, let there be damage ensued and tabloid news in that kind of love. </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Elliot tapped his foot in time with the music blasting through his house, his glasses on the end of his nose and a soldering iron in one hand. His new holotech prototype rested on the workbench, pulled into individual pieces as he worked on the wiring inside. He had been working on fixing his decoy’s collision and seeing if he could get them to move outside of their idle animations but had been unsuccessful. Elliot sang under his breath while sliding all the pieces back together in the arms section of his holotech. He turned the iron off and sat back in his chair with a loud sigh. His head tilted as he double checked he hadn’t missed anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sliding the frame onto his arms, Elliot scrunched his nose and made a small noise of discomfort. Wearing his holo tech without the fabric buffer of his suit was never going to be comfortable. The metal edges scraped his arms and sometimes it pulled at his skin but he was too tired to even bother thinking about putting his entire suit on. So he slid his bare arms in and adjusted until everything was in working order and activated the tech. Mirage phased into existence beside him in a standing position, cycling through the various idle animations he had programmed in. Elliot rolled his eyes as he watched the decoy point finger guns forward and wink, leaning its weight effortlessly on one leg. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay...let’s see if I did this right,” Elliot mumbled under his breath, standing up out of his chair. He flicked the holotech over and raised his arms, watching as the decoy snapped to attention and followed his every move. An excited grin lit up Elliot’s face as he took a step backwards and the decoy followed him exactly. “Yes! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot moved around his bedroom, the decoy falling into step beside him perfectly. He did a little dance to the music still playing overhead and the decoy followed, its movements the exact same as his own. Elliot flicked the tech back and the decoy stopped immediately, back to its idling animations. Elliot watched as it placed its hands on its hips and looked around the room, its smile empty and its stare vacant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I did it,” Elliot said quietly to himself, the grin still plastered over his face. He fell back into his chair, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his eyes. “God. That took so long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned the holotech prototype and slid the pieces off of his arms, placing it all back down on the workbench. Elliot pushed his glasses back up his nose and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at the prototype. He didn’t know how long it had been since he had started work on the holo tech but the sun had definitely risen. Had he slept at all? When was the last time he had eaten? Elliot rested his glasses up on his head and ran a hand down his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elliot?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck!” he yelped, jumping up out of his chair. “Bloodhound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stood behind him, one hand outstretched towards him. “My apologies. I had been knocking but I thought you might not be able to hear me over the music.” They sounded genuinely embarrassed to have scared him. They raised their other arm slightly, showing the bag hanging from their forearm. “I bought you food.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot fumbled with his phone to turn the music down to a more liveable volume before letting out a nervous laugh. “Sorry I didn’t hear you knock. Guess I was really caught up in fixing my tech,” he nodded towards the bench. “You just scared the hell out of me, Hound.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry, Elliot.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay! I should have been paying more attention,” Elliot rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait, you bought me food?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound brightened, nodding. “Yes. I was not sure what you would like...so I bought us something called a breakfast sandwich from the cafe a few streets away from you. Renee gave me the recommendation before I left. I also bought you something to drink.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dare I ask what time it is?” Elliot said, gesturing for Bloodhound to follow him back downstairs. He heard them laugh behind him as they walked down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is about nine o’clock in the morning. I did not want to arrive too early. I thought that you might be sleeping,” they said, trailing him to the kitchen where they set down the drinks tray and food bag. They removed their gloves and pulled their face mask down around their chin, staring at Elliot with a slight smile. “I was obviously mistaken.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot climbed up onto the kitchen counter and rolled his shoulders, groaning when he heard something crack. “Yeah, I started messing with an old prototype for my holotech and then I guess time got away from me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound pulled two wrapped sandwiches from the bag and slid one towards Elliot, sitting themselves down at one of the barstools next to him. “What were you working on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot unwrapped his food and took a bite, letting out a noise that probably wasn’t appropriate for present company as he ate. He hadn’t realised exactly how hungry he was until that moment. Bloodhound watched him with amusement while they slowly unwrapped their own food. “I was trying to upgrade the decoys I guess. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said a while back about working on their c-col-col-c-uh.. Y’know. Hittin’ stuff.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Collision?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! Uh, I wanted to fix that. See if I can’t get ‘em to run around or something,” Elliot pulled his legs up to cross on the counter, frowning slightly. “I got one of them to follow me around...I’m still working on the multiples.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded in response as they pulled one of the to-go cups from the drinks tray and offered it to Elliot. He took it with a small thank you and sipped at it slowly. “I believe I got you the right order,” Bloodhound said. “My apologies if I did not get it right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot hummed happily as he drank more of his coffee, his fingers wrapped around the warm sides of the cup. “No, this is perfect. We’ve been pretending to date for like, two months now so I’d like to think I could trust you with my coffee order.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two months has felt like it has flown past very quickly,” Bloodhound said. Their gaze flickered up to the top of Elliot’s head and they smiled. “All this time and I never knew that you wear glasses.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot froze for a moment, remembering the frames resting on top of his head, before relaxing again. “Yeah. I don’t need to wear ‘em all the time. Thank the Gods for that. I look like a </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete </span>
  </em>
  <span>dork with them on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound leant forward in their seat and pulled the glasses down to rest on his nose. Elliot was silent as they stared him down, their head tilting to the side. Their hand still rested on the side of his face, hovering above the glasses as they considered him. Elliot kept himself as still as possible; almost like a man trying to keep from scaring a frightened animal. Bloodhound was so close, he could see every detail in the scars snaking up the side of their face. Eventually they sat back in their seat and picked their drink back up. “I think that you look handsome,” they said quietly, looking at him over the top of the to-go cup. “You should wear them more often.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot felt a blush steadily rising in his cheeks and averted his eyes, laughing nervously. “T-Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are your prototypes going to be ready for the next games?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just like that, the conversation went back to normal. Bloodhound continued on as if there hadn’t been a shared moment between the two of them that left Elliot’s heart racing. Maybe they hadn’t noticed it. Maybe they never even knew the way that Elliot’s breathing hitched when they stepped a little too close or held his hand for just a moment too long in front of the press. Elliot pushed it aside. It didn’t mean anything. Bloodhound was just his new best friend and he was about as touch starved as a person could get. Any sane person would have the same reaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Keep it together, Witt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>⁝</b>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Path, where’s the next zone gonna be?” Mirage leant over the railing and looked out over Thermal Station, the heat from the lava rising from below where he stood. Beside him, Pathfinder pulled up the map on his holo device and shoved it towards Mirage with more enthusiasm than was called for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Looks like we are inside the next ring! Good job us! We don’t even have to move! Woohoo!” Pathfinder made a small beeping noise and clapped his hands together. He was wearing those huge boxing gloves that Mirage definitely was not jealous of and the dull thumping noise they made when they were smacked together almost made him laugh. “And only one other squad remaining!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage hummed and hopped off of the railing, pulling his Wingman from its holster and spinning it on his finger. Pathfinder’s optics blinked and followed the movement. Mirage threw in a little extra flare into the trick and Pathfinder ooh’d, leaning forward to watch closer. The MRVN always loved Mirage’s tricks and was always trying to get him to teach him sleight of hand. But truth be told, Mirage didn’t want to teach the robot how to do anything in his repertoire in case he was better at it and took his whole gig. He also was positive that Pathfinder’s clunky design didn’t allow for such nimble small movements. Pathfinder unclipped his Havoc and threw it up into the air with a loud whoop, clapping a few times before catching the gun again. The holo screen in his chest flashed a thumbs up and Mirage raised his own hands to clap for his performance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, good robot,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe I’ll teach you a couple of tricks sometime. Tell you what, I’ll show you something if you tell me how you managed to swing those gloves past the gamekeepers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would like that very much, friend! Perhaps we could-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pathfinder was cut off by the last enemy duo shooting at them from the other side of Thermal Station. In an instant Mirage heard the distinctive click of Pathfinder’s Havoc switching to single fire and the robot was aiming down sights towards the enemies, firing off several shots. Mirage ducked below the railing and snuck a look towards the squad through the digital sight attached to his pistol. He watched as Pathfinder’s shots found their mark and smashed through one of the personal shields, the enemy falling back to cover behind the far away building. Mirage had always found Pathfinder’s reflexes scary as hell and had asked him once before if he had found a way to hack into his coding to make sure he never missed but he had just made Pathfinder sad. Apparently he was upset Mirage would accuse him of cheating. Mirage aimed again, checking on the enemy squad’s location. The duo was still slowly pressing forward but disappeared behind an open supply crate before Mirage could get a good look at who was coming. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pathfinder ducked down behind cover with Mirage and pulled out a single shield cell, his optics clicking as he looked around. Once his shields were repaired, he reached behind himself and pulled the zip gun from his back, aiming down and shooting it towards the top of the structure in the middle of the station. “Are you ready to fly on a zipline?” he called cheerily, attaching himself to it. “I am!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage rolled his eyes and clipped himself to the zipline, flying after Pathfinder to the high ground. Halfway up, he sent a decoy flying and flinched as it was immediately gunned down. Stray shots chipped his own armour and he grunted in pain as he reached the end of the zipline. Pathfinder gave him cover fire as he recharged the lost cells on his armour, crouched up the very top of Thermal Station. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s the plan here, buddy?” Mirage asked, peeking over the end to fire shots toward the enemy squad, his bullets finding their mark and breaking some shields. “We staying up here and letting them come to us?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not have a location on the second member of their squad. I believe we should stay on the high ground until we can see them both, friend!” Pathfinder reloaded his Havoc and his holo screen flashed up a frowny face. “I need energy ammo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage sighed and rifled through his backpack. He knew he wouldn’t have any but checked anyway on the off chance he had accidentally swiped some without noticing. “Y’know, Path, I keep telling ya to stop using energy guns,” Mirage said, blowing his hair back from his face. “You never seem to have enough ammo.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But this is my favourite gun! It is good for defeating our enemies!” Pathfinder replied, patting the gun. “Maybe you should try to use it sometime, friend! It might help you overtake me as the kill leader!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m only one behind you!” Mirage said defensively. He cast a worried look over the side, down to the unopened supply crates circling the structure. “I’m gonna drop down and see if I can collect some reserves for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But friend, what about the enemies below us?” Pathfinder asked, his holo screen showing a question mark. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage touched his holotech and summoned a decoy. Pathfinder watched in excitement as it followed his every move, rather than standing idle. “Made some upgrades to the kit,” Mirage said with a grin. “Think I should be fine to go for a quick ammo trip. ‘Sides, you have this wonderful zipline for me in case things go south.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He attached himself to the zipline and dropped back down, looking back up to see Pathfinder giving him an excited thumbs up from the high ground. Mirage shook his head and started opening crates, looking for the glow of the green ammunition. He found a couple of shield cells and shoved them inside his backpack to divide amongst himself and Path later. There were a few frag grenades and stacks of sniper bullets but no energy ammunition. Mirage sighed and rolled his eyes, ready to radio up to Pathfinder that he was unsuccessful before he noticed a familiar green light pulsing inside the main building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bingo!” Mirage muttered under his breath, stepping inside the dark building towards the ammunition. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as Mirage’s fingers closed around the stack, two red lights flashed from the other side of the building, lighting up the whole room for a moment. Two </span>
  <em>
    <span>eyes</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Mirage yelped in surprise, dropping the ammunition and fumbling for his gun but the owner of the eyes had him pinned against the wall in an instant. Their handaxe was pressed just under his jaw, their other arm holding him across his chest. Mirage struggled for a moment but was stopped by the edge of the axe pressing in closer, threatening to break skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ást</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hound, baby, I was wondering where you’d been!” Mirage grinned, both of his hands coming up to hold Bloodhound’s wrist. He watched as their head tilted, the charms running along the brim of their hat jingling as they hit against one another. “I missed you!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are very visible today, Mirage. One might think you wished to be found,” Bloodhound mused, their free hand tracing up the bright yellow chest plating of his suit. It eventually stopped once they had a hold of his jaw, moving his head to the side. “Is this suit new?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just something I had lying around,” Mirage snarked with a wink. The hand on his jaw tightened and Mirage’s grin grew wider. “So you gonna kill me or what? Cause let me tell ya, sweetheart, I’m not hating this view.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am considering it,” Bloodhound let go of Mirage’s jaw but left their axe pressed into his throat. “May I ask where your teammate is?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that your whole job? To find the enemies?” Mirage said with a laugh. He knew he was pushing it but he figured he was buying himself more time until Pathfinder realised he was missing. And he wasn’t exactly lying; there were way worse places to be than having a sharp object held to your throat by your attractive not-partner. Mirage shifted under Bloodhound’s grip and studied their mask. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>looked new. “Hey, are we still on for my mom’s?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small laugh escaped from underneath Bloodhound’s mask and they nodded. “Yes. I am excited to finally meet the woman who put up with you for so many years.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’ll have you know that I was a wonderful child,” Mirage pouted, looking around to weigh his options. He knew there was no way he could get out of Bloodhound’s grip with strength alone. Every time he squirmed, they kept their axe securely placed to his throat. They seemed almost unshakeable. The key word here was </span>
  <em>
    <span>almost</span>
  </em>
  <span>. An idea struck and Mirage fought a smile. “Hey, what do you keep calling me? I noticed it earlier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound seemed to falter, caught off guard by the question. “To which word are you referring?” their head tilted down and Mirage could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>the smirk growing behind the mask. “I call you a lot of things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Asp? As….tuh? I’m really not sure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ást. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It simply means love.</span>
  <em>
    <span>”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw...you love me?” Mirage cooed, the hands around Bloodhound’s wrist moving to slide down their arms. Bloodhound lost their composure for a single moment, almost spluttering, and Mirage took the opportunity. He pointed behind them and fake gasped. “What’s over there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound turned slightly, confused and caught off guard, but it was enough for their grip to loosen and Mirage shoved them away. There was a loud clatter as their axe hit the ground and they immediately moved to attack. Mirage ducked the punch they threw at him and managed to get behind them. He clicked in his holotech and watched in glee as several decoys phased out around the two of them. Bloodhound spun around in all of the chaos, pulling out an SMG and spraying down the holograms with deadly accuracy. One by one the decoys exploded in a shower of blue pixels, spewing out preprogrammed lines, but Mirage was already outside of the room. He stuck his head back in to see Bloodhound holster their gun, cursing under their breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See you later, puppy!” Bloodhound froze at the nickname, turning slowly with their axe back in their hand, and Mirage bolted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage could see Pathfinder in the distance, engaged in a gun fight with who he could only assume was Bloodhound’s teammate. As Mirage ran towards them, the robot pumped an unhealthy amount of energy ammunition into his opponent and loomed over them as they hit the ground. Mirage skidded to a halt beside Pathfinder as he finished them off, ending with an attempt at a high five.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello again, friend! Are you okay?” Pathfinder asked, his screen flashing a question mark. “Only one enemy remaining!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s Bloodhound. We ran into each other,” Mirage dug through his backpack for a second before smacking his head. “Shit. I found you some ammo but I dropped it back in the building.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is alright, Mirage! I still have my other trusty gun!” Pathfinder unholstered the tiny P2020 from his belt and flashed a thumbs up, Mirage now fighting the urge to punch his teammate for his choice in guns. “I have been meaning to find a different gun but this one is just so much fun! It goes so fast!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage ran his hands down his face and cast a worried look to the building he had fled from. They had no idea where Bloodhound ended up. It meant nothing that they were solo. Mirage had seen Bloodhound take out entire squads of three alone before. As if on cue, Mirage heard the familiar snarl of Bloodhound in the distance. A chill ran down his spine as he spotted them across Thermal Station, running impossibly fast. Mirage didn’t know exactly what it meant for Bloodhound to call upon the Beast of the Hunt, but he knew it was nothing to take lightly. He would also deny ever finding it incredibly hot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage ducked behind some cover and Pathfinder followed suit, the tiny pistol still clutched in his giant robot hands. For a moment, Mirage considered running back to the main building to snag the ammunition for Pathfinder’s Havoc so he didn’t have to use it but thought better of it. He would be out of position and he risked throwing the match. They just had to make sure that Bloodhound didn’t make it around the other side where they had open sight lines to shoot the two of them. Mirage opened his mouth to tell Pathfinder but was interrupted by shots from a Longbow firing towards Pathfinder and smashing his personal shield. How the hell had Bloodhound-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Here I go!” Pathfinder’s grapple attached to one of the pillars surrounding Thermal Station and he flung himself away, up and into the air. Mirage watched in awe as Bloodhound landed every shot on the airborne robot and he hit the ground with a loud crash. “Oh no! Ouch! This was a mistake!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage ran towards Pathfinder, skidding to a stop in front of him. He could see Bloodhound running in the distance, their sniper shouldered as they pushed forward. His breathing quickened as he knelt beside Pathfinder. “We gotta get you to cover so I can get you back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please do not attempt to revive me! There is no time, Mirage, we will both be killed!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s Bloodhound, dude, I can’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no! Here they come!” Pathfinder started dragging himself backwards, the knockdown strapped to his arm flashing into view. Mirage growled under his breath in frustration, gun in hand as he made a run for the main building again. He made it through the room and out the other side, faltering as he heard the final gunshot fired on Pathfinder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage ducked for cover behind one of the structures circling Thermal Station, his gun trained on the doorway to the main building. He waited for Bloodhound to come through the open door, finger poised over the trigger and ready to open fire. He steadied his breathing and willed his hands to still as the seconds stretched on. When Bloodhound made no appearance, Mirage sent a decoy running towards the door. He watched as it ran through the door and stopped, starting to run through its idle animations. Mirage clicked his tech and grinned as the decoy began copying his stance, crouching and aiming a gun down. He tested the waters, inching himself to the side and standing back up. As soon as the decoy’s head was out of cover, a gunshot pierced it right between eyes and the decoy exploded into a spray of blue pixels. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gotcha,” Mirage muttered, rotating around the left of the building. He knew where Bloodhound was based on the single sniper shot but he knew he didn’t have much time. It did bring him a little bit of joy to know that he managed to fool the legendary hunter with his “tricks of the eyes”. He would have to brag about that later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He spotted movement behind a pillar and ducked, using the railing for cover as he snuck towards them. He found himself behind them as he slowly walked. Mirage raised his gun and aimed, one eye closing as his finger hovered over the trigger. A loud squawk beside his ear startled him and he missed the shot, his gun jerking to the side in fear. Bloodhound whipped around and was firing in an instant. Mirage yelped in surprise and dodged, firing shots back. Artur swooped overhead, making his way back towards Bloodhound. Mirage dropped back behind cover, heart racing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair, you know!” he called over the railing, reloading his Wingman. “Using the bird. That’s cheating.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is not cheating,” Bloodhound sounded closer than Mirage would have liked. “Think of it as compensation for what you called me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw, you didn’t like puppy? I thought it was cute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage sent a decoy to the right and ran to the left, confusing Bloodhound for a moment. They shot the decoy first, cursing loudly and shifting their aim to the real man. Two of Mirage’s bullets found their way into their shield and they stumbled for a moment. It gave Mirage the time to send out another decoy and ram himself into them, sending them toppling to the ground. With a low snarl, they ditched their gun and grabbed at the front of his suit but fell back onto the concrete when the man in front of them disappeared into pixels. The real Mirage walked over from the side and dropped down to a crouch, a cocky grin stretched across his face. He reached down to grab the bottom of their mask, as if he were holding their chin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is that? Three times I fooled you now? You’re off your game today,” he said with a quiet laugh. Bloodhound panted beneath him, trying to buck away from him but Mirage leant a knee against their chest. “Guess I bamboozled you, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage stood back up and tutted when Bloodhound tried to follow, reaching for their gun. He spun in a circle, making a show of it for the cameras, and quickly ended the match with a strong kick to the face. Bloodhound collapsed back against the concrete and the overhead announcer blared out the decided winner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>⁝</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Legends rarely held afterparties for the games but this one in particular was organized by Octavio. He’d tried to pass it off as wanting to have some fun but Elliot knew him well enough to know he just missed hanging out with everybody outside of “work”. Work being shooting your friends in the head for monetary gain. Weird. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Paradise Lounge was always packed with patrons; someone caught wind that it was the easiest way to find the Legends out and about and it had become a hotspot ever since. Elliot couldn’t find it in himself to care. It meant he almost always had business. Elliot was sitting at the bar with Octavio and Ajay, shoving them both away with a loud laugh. They were congratulating him on his win but he wasn’t hearing any of it. He just wanted to know where Bloodhound was. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone seen them?” he asked, his voice raised over the rabble in the bar. “You did invite them, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya, Ellie, I invited them,” Octavio rolled his eyes, bumping his elbow into Elliot’s side. “I’m not a </span>
  <em>
    <span>complete </span>
  </em>
  <span>asshole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ, dude, keep your bony ass elbows to yourself,” Elliot rubbed his side in mock hurt, pouting. “How are you so goddamn pointy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s cause ya too damn skinny!” Ajay laughed, wrapping an arm around Octavio’s shoulder. “Gotta slow down sometime, Tavi, ya hear me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their banter faded into the background as Elliot sat back against the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He could see several Legends and a couple of regular patrons but there was no sign of Bloodhound. He sighed and sipped at his soda, resting his chin against his hand. Maybe he’d gone too far taunting them in the ring. Maybe he’d bruised their pride with the quip about getting bamboozled. His anxiety bubbled quietly below the surface as he began to think of new reasons Bloodhound could be mad at him. He was brought back to reality by Ajay jabbing him in the arm, waving her drink in the direction of the door. Elliot looked over just in time to almost choke on his soda watching Bloodhound walk in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In all the time Elliot had known Bloodhound, he had never seen them in less than three layers. It was something he had poked about and found out that they just didn’t care to show off their body. They didn’t see the point and they felt the most comfortable wrapped up in layers. Elliot hadn’t pushed any further; he respected their decision entirely and wasn’t going to force them into anything they weren’t comfortable with. So it was a bit of a surprise to see Bloodhound show up to the bar in a single layer, their jacket thrown over one arm. Elliot knew what a monumental moment it was for Bloodhound to make an appearance in public without their usual layers and the iconic mask. They had spoken before about the possibility of showing themself in public now that it was near impossible to hide with their “relationship status” but Elliot had never considered they would actually go through with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pick ya jaw up off the floor, loverboy,” Ajay teased, shoving Elliot towards them. “Go tell ‘em they look nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot stumbled over and waved Bloodhound towards him. They caught sight and beelined to him, cutting through the crowd with an ease that Elliot envied. They stopped in front of him and smoothed the front of the grey turtleneck skater dress they wore, fingers nervously playing with the hem. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Halló</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“H-Hi…, you, uh, y-you- b-beautif-,” Elliot cut himself off. Ok. Try again. Use your words. “You look cute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound ducked their head and ran their hands through their long hair. “Thank you. I am trying something new for tonight,” their eyes crinkled in the way that told Elliot they were smiling behind their half-mask and he reached out to grab their hand. “Congratulations on your victory, Elliot. Although I do not believe the kick was necessary.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s other hand came up to hold Bloodhound’s jaw, his thumb brushing over their cheek. “I’m sorry. Guess I got a little carried away,” he shot them a quick smile. “I could always kiss it better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound just let out a little chuckle that did funny things to Elliot’s heart. “I will have to take you up on that offer another time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fyrirgef mér</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I must speak with Natalie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stepped up on their tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek through their mask before disappearing back into the crowd. Elliot’s hand came up to rest on his cheek, the spot where Bloodhound’s mask had touched buzzing. His heart did a little flip as he thought about them being so publicly affectionate. It made Elliot smile to see their newfound confidence. It looked good on them. He watched them from across the bar as they met up with Natalie, their hands waving in front of them as they talked with a reserved excitement. Elliot wondered what they were talking about. His eyes wandered, drifting over their arms as they were suddenly crossed along Bloodhound’s chest. The way their arms flexed as they laughed made his mouth go dry and he shook his head, pulling his gaze away before he had a chance to further undress his friend with his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lost in thought, Ellie?” Octavio’s voice at his shoulder made Elliot flinch in shock, a red flush running up his neck as he was filled with embarrassment. “I caught you staring, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot bumped his hip against Octavio, trying to brush it off as his hand came up to nervously scratch his neck. “Just thinking. No biggie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio wiggled his eyebrows at Elliot and jammed an elbow into his side. “You thinkin’ about Hound?” When Elliot’s blush reached his cheeks, Octavio howled with laughter. “Hey! You thinking horny shit about your partner? In public? Scandalous, Ellie, </span>
  <em>
    <span>debería darte vergüenza...</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Tavi, I’ll kill you. I’m not thinking about anything,” Elliot rolled his eyes at Octavio’s incessant giggling and crossed his arms defensively. “We’re taking things slow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio nodded sagely, sipping the drink he held in his hand. “Yeah... they seem the type to wait ‘til marriage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Elliot cuffed Octavio upside the head, frowning. “Don’t be an asshole. If they wanna go slow, we go slow. I’m not gonna push for anything they don’t want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ya, but-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey Tavi, don’t you have a huge crush on-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, be quiet! Alright, alright! I’ll leave you alone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Qué cabrón</span>
  </em>
  <span>….”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot laughed, elbowing Octavio. “Besides, I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this. Resident blabbermouth over here, can’t keep shit to himself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What can’t ya talk to Tavi about?” Ajay appeared by his other side again, also succeeding in scaring Elliot. “Can ya talk to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ, where do you two </span>
  <em>
    <span>come </span>
  </em>
  <span>from? This is what I’m talking about!” Ajay grinned at him and linked her arm with Octavio’s, the pair of them giggling like children. “Nothing. We aren’t talking about anything and I am leaving this conversation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot left the two of them arm in arm, snickering amongst themselves. He beelined back to the bar, where he called for the night’s bartender to replace the soda he had accidentally left behind earlier. They slid him a glass and he took it gratefully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rough night?” they teased and Elliot rolled his eyes, downing his soda in one go.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Niko, or I’ll fire you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you won’t,” Nikolaj laughed as they picked up an empty glass from the bar. “I’m the only one willing to put up with your sorry ass pouting at the bar. Now get your ass back out there before someone gets worried.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, ouch.” Elliot slid the glass back to Nikolaj and turned to face outward, scanning the crowd for familiar faces. It was a busy night for the Paradise Lounge, most likely because of the amount of Legends gathering there after the games were finished. Elliot could spot a couple of regulars, along with a few journalists, but most of the crowd was unfamiliar. Something pulled in his chest when he realised he couldn’t see Bloodhound anywhere and he found himself stressed out wondering where they could have gone. He mentally slapped himself on the wrist, frowning. Bloodhound was an adult and their own person. They didn’t need Elliot following after them like a lost toddler, aching to hold their hand. “I’m gonna sit here for a minute. You’re just gonna have to put up with me for a little longer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolaj laughed loud, their hands gathering their thick dark green hair up to tie it out of their face. They pulled a tie off of their wrist with their teeth and made sure their hair was securely tied before leaning back over the bar to grab Elliot’s abandoned glass. They shook it towards him, an eyebrow raising, and he shook his head quickly. With a nod, they began washing it out in the sink.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For real though, boss, you feeling okay?” Nikolaj’s voice was softer than it needed to be as they expressed their concern. “Usually you and Tavi are inseparable at the Lounge. Or I thought you’d at least be hanging off of your new squeeze.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot made a face at them. “Squeeze?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolaj laughed again, throwing a hand up. “I don’t know, dude! English isn’t even my </span>
  <em>
    <span>second </span>
  </em>
  <span>language so you can’t come for me.” Elliot smiled so wide it almost hurt his cheeks as he watched Nikolaj hold a finger up for a moment, leaning back over the bar to take someone’s order. They mixed it up in record time, sliding it across the marble counter and taking the person’s money. Their change was handed back and the person left with their drink, so Nikolaj came back to Elliot. “Anyway. Hound. Are they here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot nodded, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah. They’re talking to Nat at the moment. I think she has a new fascination with Artur and they couldn’t be happier to answer her, uh, endless questions.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolaj stared at Elliot for a moment before humming in agreeance. They pushed back from the bar, stretching their back out for a second. Their hand came up to fiddle with something behind their ear and Elliot suddenly became hyper aware of the fact that the music was super loud in the Lounge.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want me to get them to turn it down?” he asked, concern lacing his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah. You’re all good. Just not one hundred percent used to wearing the aid is all,” Nikolaj threw Elliot an easy smile, throwing a dish towel over their shoulder. “Weird to go from hearing absolutely fuck-all to hearing everything at once. Takes some getting used to. But it was my own choice, y’know. Easier to use it than to try and lip read seven hundred cocktail orders more complex than the Magna Carta every night.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot laughed along with them and glanced over his shoulder at the crowd. “You’ll let me know if you need anything changed though, yeah?” Nikolaj nodded and Elliot sighed. “Guess I should get back out there, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nikolaj waved him away and Elliot pushed himself away from the bar. He spotted Makoa sitting at a booth by himself, a half empty pint of beer in front of him. Elliot shoved his way through the crowd of people separating him from Makoa to stand beside the booth and a huge grin split Makoa’s face when he spotted Elliot.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How you doin’, little guy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I join you?” Elliot asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa nodded, gesturing to the seat across from himself and Elliot sat down. “Congratulations on the win, by the way. You did good work out there,” Makoa said. Elliot gave him a small smile and Makoa crossed his arms across his chest. “You here with Hound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. They’re here somewhere,” Elliot gestured vaguely towards the crowd and Makoa laughed. Elliot pointed down at the half empty drink sitting on the table. “Can I get you a refill on that? Something different?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa shook his head. “Nah, I’m all good, brother. No need to give ol’ Gibraltar special treatment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot hummed and tapped his fingers along the edge of the table. Makoa’s eyes followed the movement and he raised an eyebrow, bringing his hand across to place over Elliot’s. There was a moment of shared silence before Elliot sighed and stopped his fingers from moving. “Sorry. Anxious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no need to apologise,” Makoa gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Anything you wanna get off your chest, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hoa</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Something ‘bout Bloodhound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot met Makoa’s eyes, surprise painted clear across his face. “I don’t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you don’t have to tell me anything!” Makoa sat back against the booth, his arms back to crossing over his chest. “Just know that Gibraltar is here if you need.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot ran both his hands down his face and groaned, leaning down to rest his forehead against the table. His eyes narrowed and he filed a mental note to clean the tables at some point. He heard a laugh from Makoa at his display and raised his head again. “I’ve been thinking a lot recently. Mostly about Bloodhound. And I don’t know what the takeaway is yet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa nodded, pursing his lips. “I’m havin’ a hard time reading your energy here, Elliot. You thinkin’ of breaking up with them?” he asked seriously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! God, no.” Elliot dropped his face into his hands, desperately trying to come up with a way to talk about how he felt without giving away the whole scheme. He knew he could trust Makoa with literally anything but he had made a promise to Bloodhound that no one could know; no exceptions. It just made things easier in the long run if everyone believed the lie so there was little need for creeping around people that knew it was a lie. But Elliot hadn’t taken into account that he might experience some feelings. Whatever those were. “I’m not breaking up with them. The opposite actually. Uh. I don’t know what I’m talking about. Actually, y’know what. Ignore me. I didn’t say anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa burst out laughing again, making Elliot flinch in surprise. “You got it bad! Huh, little guy? Tell Gibraltar how you’re feeling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s just something about them. Y’know? T-There’s just….something. Whenever they text me and I see their name come up on my phone, it makes me feel something. The fact that they text me pictures of Artur doing stupid shit or they hold my hand before we leave the drop ship because they know I’m fucking terrified of heights. And to be honest with you, I think they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>afraid of heights so it means so much more that they want to make sure I’m okay. And they’re so a-at….attract-a….shit. They’re cute. But it’s not just that. They’re so smart and they know so much and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Makoa.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot snuck a look at Makoa through his fingers and was surprised to see the man smiling fondly at him. “That was a lot of words for someone who doesn’t know what to say, brother. Lotta strong feelings, huh? You two have been dating for a couple months now so you’re gonna feel like this. Only natural.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot shifted under Makoa’s pointed gaze, bringing his head up. “I know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seems to me that this might be your first serious relationship, huh? That’s got to bring a lot of big feelings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you asking if I love them?," Elliot asked, trying his damndest to keep his body language casual. He felt like Makoa was staring directly into his soul, right through all of his bullshit. Could he read minds? Oh God, could Makoa read minds? "Of course I love them."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa seemed satisfied with his answer, clapping a hand on Elliot's shoulder with a knowing look. He thankfully moved on, steering the conversation back to the Games but it left Elliot's head spinning. Love them? The words left a funny taste in his mouth that he couldn't quite place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever this was, Elliot knew it wasn't love. It couldn't be love.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>⁝</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot found himself out in the back alley, two cigarettes in, by the time it had hit eleven thirty. The noise inside the Paradise Lounge had gotten louder and the crowd had only gotten bigger and he needed to step out. He had snuck out through the employees only door and was sitting at a small wire table and chair set up in the alleyway, shivering in the cold. For days now, the sky had been trying its best to produce enough snow to cover the ground but it wasn’t quite there yet. Elliot lit his third cigarette and leant back in his chair, blowing smoke up to the sky. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Lounge’s back door opened and Elliot moved his gaze over, sitting up straighter when he saw it was Bloodhound. Niko must have let them through the back door. They stared at him for a moment before pulling their coat on and joining him in the chair on the other side of the table. Everything was silent between them as Bloodhound pulled their coat tighter around themselves and stared down the alley. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you smoked,” they said quietly, turning to face Elliot and pulling down their mask. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bad habit I picked up when I dropped drinking,” Elliot shrugged one shoulder and snuffed out the cigarette on the side of the wire table, dropping it into the ashtray in the middle. “Only do it when I’m feeling anxious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Krúttið mitt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you have an anxiety disorder.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well….never said I was healthy about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed and Elliot looked away. “Are you okay?” they asked, their voice turning serious. “You disappeared very suddenly. I was worried that I might have done something to anger you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s head snapped to look at Bloodhound and he was heartbroken to see how nervous they looked. It was an unfamiliar expression on their face and he didn’t like it. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I just have a hard time with the crowds sometimes so I came out here to get some air,” he shook his head for a moment and crossed his arms. “As polluted as that air might have been, I guess.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you wish for me to leave?” Bloodhound seemed less worried now that they had a name to the problem and the sincerity in their voice felt like a stab to Elliot’s heart. “I do not mind if you would like to be alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! No, I should probably head back in anyway. Tavi is probably jumping up onto the bar again and I’m the only one he listens to,” Elliot joked, sitting forward in his chair. Bloodhound’s hand came out to rest on his and he took it gratefully. “Really, I’m okay. Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound patted their joined hands and stood up, pulling Elliot with them. Their hand tightened in his and they used their free hand to pull their mask up, nodding their head towards the door. Elliot allowed himself to get pulled back inside the Lounge, the stark change in atmosphere making his head spin for a moment. Bloodhound’s hand threaded through his own kept him grounded as they led him back up to the bar. He could see half the Legends crammed in Makoa’s booth, the rest of the main group littered around the room. Octavio was sitting on the back of the booth, his steel legs dangling around Ajay’s shoulders. Elliot wondered how she could put up with him sometimes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Bloodhound could lead him towards the full table of Legends, Elliot stopped them at the bar. They turned back to look at him, confused but not annoyed. Elliot pulled them close so they could hear him as he talked. “I know now maybe it's the b-best time but I just wanted to make sure that we are really all good for my m-m..mom’s.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded quickly, their eyes searching Elliot’s face. They knew they were approaching sensitive territory. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Já</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I am still going to go with you. I would love to meet your mother.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s free hand came up to nervously rub the back of his neck and he cast a glance to the Legends. A few had noticed the two of them standing by the bar. Noticed how close they stood together. Noticed the way Elliot’s face was dropping further into a frown. Some were beginning to talk amongst themselves, pulled close enough to whisper. “I-I just wanted you to be prepared,” when Bloodhound cocked their head to the side, Elliot sighed. “Docs say she has Alzheimer’s. Early onset something or other. I’m bad with medical words. But she got diagnosed a couple years back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me, Elliot, I am unfamiliar with that first word.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a, uh, b-brain disorder. She, uh, forgets things….Gets confused about a lot of stuff. M-mostly she’s fine but sometimes…” Elliot trailed off and Bloodhound waited patiently, their hand still linked with his. “She forgets who I am sometimes. Mixes me up with my brothers. Forgets they’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But most of the time she’s still mom.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Skítur</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Elliot, I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Everything’s fine most of the time. Not a lot of people really know about it. People still think she’s the brilliant Evelyn Witt, flawless engineer and scientific mind. Not that she isn’t. That’s not what I meant. S-She-y’know, she’s still-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do not have to explain anything to me, Elliot. I will be there with you every step of the way,” Bloodhound brought their free hand up to cup Elliot’s face, frowning up at him. “I may not be your real partner, but I am your real friend. We must believe in the Allfather’s chosen path and where it shall take us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The end is decided. Trust it,” Bloodhound cast a quick glance behind them to the table of Legends, who Elliot hadn’t noticed had been watching the conversation intently. They looked back to him and met his eyes. “May I kiss you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-what?” Elliot’s face went bright red as he jolted, thrown off guard by the question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have been talking very seriously for a while now. The others think we are having an argument. I would not want to raise any suspicion,” Bloodhound blinked up at him, their face open and honest. “You are allowed to say no. I would not wish to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot shook his head quickly and almost stumbled moving closer to Bloodhound. They pulled their face mask down around their neck and wrapped their arms around his neck, pulling Elliot down to their height. For a moment, their forehead rested against his own as they met his eyes, a silent exchange to make sure that yes, this was completely okay. With a smile, they closed the gap and their lips met Elliot’s. He nearly melted into their arms as they kissed him, a million sparks running through his head at once. Behind them, Elliot could hear Ajay and Anita cheering and he almost laughed. Elliot’s hands came down to rest on Bloodhound’s waist and they pulled back for a moment, studying his face. They pressed one last chaste kiss to his lips before letting him go. Elliot barely moved, his head still reeling from trying to process the kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>ágætur</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bloodhound patted his face and stepped back. “We shall have to do that again sometime.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They left Elliot stunned and speechless by the bar, trying to collect his thoughts. The feeling of Bloodhound’s lips against his own buzzed as he brought a hand up to his mouth. He already missed them pressed against him, feeling their smile through the kiss. He watched them slide into the booth beside Ajay and brush off whatever inappropriate comment she was bound to be making, a small blush resting on their cheeks. He wished they would come back and kiss him again. Wished they’d kissed him longer. Something heavy sat in Elliot’s chest. It weighed him down, contrasting against the bright light Bloodhound’s kiss had given him. It rested against his heart, the weight like a stone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like </span>
  <em>
    <span>regret</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It felt like knowing that they didn’t feel anything back. Knowing that when it came down to it, this was all just an elaborate lie born from his absolute stupidity. Something that he dragged into them after one of his slip ups. The way he felt when he kissed them was not the way they felt for him. They were friends. Platonic. Elliot was just kidding himself, trying to chase the feeling of being loved. It wasn’t fair to keep dragging Bloodhound through all of this. At this point, Elliot was just using them to feel as close to love as he could; trying to convince himself that someone would stay. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot started when someone called his name. He looked back up from where his gaze had been fixated on the ground of the Lounge and saw Bloodhound. They were waving him over, looking expectant. Elliot shook himself and walked over to join them, the weight in his chest serving as a reminder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>None of this is real, asshole.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hi friends im uploading this from my phone so if there's html mistakes we will deal with that later :) hope u enjoy ! </p><p>as always, feel free to come &amp; talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> have a great day &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. my heart is buried in venice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>I never thought that I would have to say I'm sorry for anyone but me</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There had been a heavy weight of anxiety sitting in Elliot’s chest in the days leading up to the trip to visit his mom. He knew it wasn’t fair to her to leave her out of the loop in his life; they had always been so close and he didn’t want to keep Bloodhound a secret. He felt excited to see his mom again. Even though they both lived in Solas City, it was hard for Elliot to visit. Between the Games, managing the Paradise Lounge, and now dealing with this fake relationship, Elliot had struggled to set aside a few days to see his mom. But now the Games were on hold while they waited for the new season and Elliot finally had the staff to step away from the Lounge and he was taking his partner to meet his mom. His fake partner. Whatever. </p><p>But no matter how excited he felt, there was always a counterweight of anxiety. He had never been a particularly good liar, let alone to his mom, so Elliot wasn’t sure what he was going to do. Sure, the gaping holes in his mother’s memory would help somewhat but he felt like somehow that made it worse. Like lying to her was more cruel this way. He was anxious she would forget his name again. That she would forget who Bloodhound was immediately. Worried she would ask where his brothers were again. Scared at the thought of her not recognizing him as she opened the door. Elliot’s fingers drummed along the steering wheel as he drove, unable to sit still for the whole ride. Bloodhound had definitely noticed the energy radiating off of Elliot but had opted to keep quiet, choosing to rest their gloved hand on his thigh as he wound the car through the streets.</p><p>As Elliot pulled into the driveway, Bloodhound turned to face him. They waited, a picture of patience and understanding, as Elliot stared at the steering wheel. His fingers had since stilled and he was white knuckled as he gripped the wheel tight. Bloodhound gently squeezed his leg and he turned his face towards them, forcing a smile onto his face. </p><p>“Ready to go?” he asked, the strain clear in his voice.</p><p>“Elliot, if you do not wish for me to meet your mother, there is still time. We do not have to jump this hurdle today,” Bloodhound said. “I am sure that she will understand if you wish to see her alone.”</p><p>Elliot let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I’m just-” he cut himself off, turning his face away. “I’m so scared she won’t recognize me. What if I left it too long this time?”</p><p>Bloodhound hummed quietly, their gaze moving to rest on the front door in the distance. “I will be there with you the whole time, <i>krúttið mitt</i>. You are one of the strongest people I know and I believe that you will be alright. I will not bore you with my talk of the Allfather’s path but I know that whatever you choose will be the right path.”</p><p>“That stuff doesn’t bore me, y’know,” Elliot’s voice was quiet and one of his hands let go of the wheel to rest over Bloodhound’s. “I’ve never been a particularly religious dude but I think it’s kind of comforting to think that someone out there is in my corner. And I like hearing you talk about it. Even if I don’t really know that much about it.”</p><p>Comfortable silence fell between them and Bloodhound’s hand tightened in Elliot’s. He shot them a look before sighing, nodding towards the house. Bloodhound let go of his hand to let themselves out of the car, smoothing down the large coat they wore as they stretched their legs. The drive hadn’t been a long one but they loathed being holed up in a car for longer than 5 minutes. Elliot appeared at the back of the car, opening the trunk to grab their bags. </p><p>Bloodhound bit their lip as they watched Elliot take the bags from the back of the car and place them on the driveway. Elliot caught their look and grinned knowingly. “Listen, if you really want to, you can call Natalie and ask how Artur is doing.”</p><p>Bloodhound pulled a face and crossed their arms. “I would trust Natalie with my own life,” they muttered. “It is Artur that I do not trust to behave while I am away.”</p><p>Elliot walked to Bloodhound’s side and bumped his hip against theirs. “It’s only two days, Hound. They will be fine. She’ll probably knit him a little bird sweater or something.”</p><p>Before Bloodhound could protest that Artur could not wear a sweater, Elliot pulled them by the arm to the front door. He knocked twice and stood back, his grip on their arm bordering on too tight. The door swung open after a couple of beats and Elliot was faced with his mother for the first time in a few months. Her face lit up in a wide smile as soon as she saw him and he felt the heavy weight on his chest disappear. </p><p>“Elliot!” she sounded so excited to see him; it made his heart soar. “My little inch worm, it’s been too long since you last visited. You’ve been neglecting your poor mother!”</p><p>She reached out to pull on his ear and Elliot flushed. “Mama...don’t bully me in front of my partner,” he gestured to Bloodhound, who bowed their head in respect. “This is Bloodhound.”</p><p>“It is so lovely to finally meet you! I have heard so much about you,” she held her hands out to Bloodhound and they reached out to hold them. “Truth be told, I was a fan when I saw you in the Games. It is exciting to meet someone with such a presence.”</p><p>“It is an honour to meet you, Ms. Witt. I have heard many things about your scientific endeavours and the work you have done with the holo-tech that Elliot uses,” Evelyn patted their hand and they seemed to shy away for a moment. “It is wonderful to finally meet the incredible woman responsible for Elliot.”</p><p>Evelyn laughed, the sound like home to Elliot, and shook her head. “I don’t know how I survived this one. The things he and his brothers would get up to! Nobody was safe from those little trouble makers,” she looked lost for a moment, looking over Bloodhound’s shoulder. “I haven’t seen them in so long. I hope they arrive soon. The house has been so quiet recently, it’ll be nice to have the house full again.”</p><p>Elliot’s breathing hitched and he stepped forward, gesturing towards the house. “How ‘bout we go inside, mama?” Bloodhound moved aside and let Elliot take his mother by the arm and lead her inside. </p><p>“Is Renee coming too? Did I forget to invite her again..” Evelyn frowned as she peered back behind Elliot. </p><p>“No, just the two of us. You wanted to meet Bloodhound, remember?” Elliot dropped their bags by the bottom of the stairs and huffed out a breath, hands on his hips. “Don’t worry, she’ll come visit soon. She misses you as much as you miss her.”</p><p>“I hope she’s doing okay. The things happening in the Games have me so worried sometimes,” she reached out to pat Elliot’s cheek, her face scrunching up. “I worry about you as well, my son.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry about me,” Elliot’s hand rested on top of hers on his head as he smiled down at her. “Your holo tech makes damn sure I can get out of any situation I find myself in. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”</p><p>Bloodhound jolted, picking up that they were being spoken to. They looked away from the rows of photo frames resting along a bookshelf, a small frown creasing their forehead. “Many apologies. I was distracted. What was asked?”</p><p>Elliot waved his hand, walking over to join them to look down at the photos. “Just talking about the Games,” he looked over his shoulder to his mother, still standing by the stairs. “Did you put up <i>more</i> photos, mama?”</p><p>Evelyn laughed in the way only mischievous parents could, clasping her hands by her front. “I did. I found some up in the attic and thought they could use a new home,” she appeared by Bloodhound’s elbow, pointing to one in particular.  Bloodhound squinted down at it before stifling a laugh. “This one’s my favourite.”</p><p>Elliot leaned down to check the photo before squawking indignantly, scooping the frame up. “<i>MA!</i> NOT THIS ONE!”</p><p>Evelyn ducked under Elliot’s arms and pulled the frame from his hands, laughing maniacally. “But you look so cute,” she cooed, holding the photo up and pointing. “All covered in cake! You were so small here! Doesn’t he look just adorable?”</p><p>“Very cute,” Bloodhound agreed, biting their lip to keep from laughing. Elliot had turned a very deep shade of red and he huffed, crossing his arms. “Whatever happened?”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“I am only joking, my love,” Bloodhound pulled Elliot to their side, their arm wrapping around his waist. “You were a very cute child, though.”</p><p>Evelyn propped the photo frame back against the bookshelf and snapped her fingers. “Coffee! Can I interest anyone in a cup of coffee?”</p><p>“I would love one, mama. Hound usually drinks tea if you still have some left from last time Renee visited.”</p><p>Evelyn disappeared around the corner, presumably to the kitchen, and left the two alone. Bloodhound’s arm stayed around Elliot’s waist and he became very aware of how close they were. If he moved slightly, he would be able to rest his chin against the top of their head. He thought about it for a second but decided against it. That felt too forward. No one was around. They had no one to fool.</p><p>“Who is this?” Bloodhound asked, their voice quiet. They knew this was unfamiliar territory for them; Elliot rarely talked about his brothers, let alone his life before the Games. </p><p>“That’s me. I guess,” Elliot must have sounded sad because Bloodhound craned their neck around to look up at him, their eyes full of concern. He shot them a quick smile but it didn’t lessen their worry. “It’s okay. It’s me...pre…..well… <i>everything</i>. Even before I started hormones. Don’t really wanna talk about it. My mom keeps some of the photos around because she thinks it’s some lost cousin she’s forgetting about or something.”</p><p>“Are these your brothers?” Bloodhound pointed to a group photo and Elliot sighed, the noise almost too quiet for them to pick up. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t be asking about such painful subjects.”</p><p>“It’s okay. I trust you,” Bloodhound’s arm tightened around Elliot’s waist and his responding smile was soft. “That’s all of us before we snuck into the Thunderdome Games. It was something we used to do when we were young and dumb. Well...dumb<i>er</i>. I was always so anxious about sneaking out, it would take ages to convince me to climb out the window and we would always end up arriving at the Thunderdome late. One of the nights, we took a picture before leaving for whatever reason. Keep the memory forever or some shit. I remember that night really well. It rained super fuckin’ hard on the way back and we all sat outside in the workshop to dry off before we went back inside the house so we wouldn’t trek water through the house,” Elliot’s voice trailed off and he rubbed a hand across his face, clearing his throat. “Stupid thing is that we would have gotten away with all of that if we hadn’t have taken that photo. Mom found it the next day and we all got grounded.”</p><p>Bloodhound laughed. “At least you have the memory to treasure, like your brothers said.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Elliot bumped his hip against Bloodhound’s and jerked his head towards the kitchen where they could hear his mother’s coffee machine running. “Although, between you and me… I think she knew the whole time. She just didn’t want to ruin the fun. She knew I was in good hands.”</p><p>“Your mother seems like a wonderful woman,” Bloodhound said, their tone soft. “I feel at ease with her.”</p><p>“She’s ex..excel….cel...wonder….she’s great. She’s amazing,” Elliot ran his hands through his hair and huffed out a breath. “God, I don’t know what I would do without my ma to be honest with you.”</p><p>As if on cue, Evelyn called them both into the kitchen and Elliot smiled, grabbing Bloodhound’s hand and pulling them into the next room. Evelyn was standing by the countertop, two large mugs held out in her hands.Bloodhound gratefully accepted the one offered to them and cupped it in both hands, warming their fingers. Elliot took his own and climbed up onto the counter to sit, much to his mother’s disappointment. With a roll of her eyes, she leant against the counter beside him and sipped at her tea. Bloodhound could tell by the way she hid a fond smile that she didn’t really mind.</p><p>“Ell, how is Renee doing? Did you tell her that I want her back for Christmas again?” Evelyn bumped her shoulder against Elliot and nodded firmly towards Bloodhound. “You’re also invited, sweetheart. No one misses out at Witt family Christmas dinner.”</p><p>“Ren knows she’s always welcome, mama, you never let her forget it,” Elliot sipped at his coffee and waved a hand at his mother. “She’s doing fine. We’re all just waiting for her to propose to Nat at this point.”</p><p>Bloodhound’s head tilted and they drummed their fingers against the mug of tea still cooling off in their hands. “Do you believe it is that serious?” they asked, curious. They didn’t know Renee very well but Natalie was one of their closest friends. They did know that if Renee was to ask the question, the answer would one hundred percent be a yes.</p><p>“You’ve seen the way that she watches Nat when she thinks no one else is looking. If she doesn’t propose by the end of the year, on my life, I’ll fist fight a prowler myself.”</p><p>Bloodhound snorted a laugh, shaking their head. “You would not last five minutes with a prowler, dearest.”</p><p>“I know! Shows how confident I’m feeling in this bet.”</p><p>Evelyn watched them talk with a faint smile on her face before she interjected again. “Have I met this girl yet?” </p><p>Elliot’s grin faltered for a moment as his eyes flickered back to Evelyn. “Y-yeah, ma. You’ve met her a couple of times. She came to, uh, Christmas last year, remember? She brought along that big circle cake you liked.”</p><p>Evelyn looked thoroughly confused and Elliot’s posture deflated slightly but she quickly snapped her fingers, her eyes lighting up. “Savarin! I got her to write the recipe down for me,” Elliot sighed quietly in relief and Evelyn pointed over at her fridge. “She stuck it up there for me. She was so lovely. Had an accent.”</p><p>“Mm. French. I could listen to her talk all day.”</p><p>“Do I have anything to be concerned about, <i>ást</i>?” Bloodhound joked, trying to pull Elliot’s mood back up. </p><p>“You know I only got eyes for you, sweetness,” Elliot replied, fake-fluttering his eyelashes in their direction. Something was so easy about flirting with them. He didn’t even care that they had an audience. He liked the way that he could flirt with them and they would give the same energy right back. Sometimes he would say something that he would immediately second guess but they would laugh and shake their head, always throwing something equal back at him. Flirting so seriously with Bloodhound felt comfortable to him and maybe he was a little bit selfish to keep doing it. But he liked to flirt and they were supposed to be dating so where was the harm. He could push his feelings aside and pretend that it was serious. Surely there was no harm.</p><p>“Have you managed to break my holo tech yet?” Evelyn’s voice pulled Elliot back from his thoughts and he rolled his eyes. “What! I’m only asking. I see the things you go through in those games, you know! Surely something is bound to get broken every now and again.”</p><p>“Ma, I don’t <i>break</i> things,” Elliot paused for a moment, considering, before his face lit back up. “I did change some stuff though! I’ll have to bring the suit over next time I visit and we can bring it down to the workshop. I got the decoys to follow movement and switched up the cloaking a bit.”</p><p>The next couple of hours slipped by with ease with Elliot discussing the changes made to his holo suit with his mother. Bloodhound watched them talk back and forth with a small smile on their face, only interjecting every now and again with simple comments. Elliot had forgotten how nice it was to talk so in depth with his mother about the tech she created for him. Sure, everyone back at the complex was smart as fuck and knew what he was talking about but there was something so incredibly rewarding about getting the approval from the woman who had forged the tech by her own hands. His own mother, no less. Talking with his mother about holo tech modifications was easy and it was fun and he had forgotten exactly how overwhelming it was to be home. A strange and mixed bag of feelings, most of which were positive. There was the occasional moment where she would space out for a moment and he would have to pull her back with a comment about the colour scheme of the suit, or a few repeated questions that made him stumble over his words, but he was <i>home</i>. He had missed talking to his mama. </p><p>Cooking dinner went by with minimal struggles. Evelyn’s care worker, Mara, stopped by for her nightly routine but didn’t stay for as long as usual once Elliot explained that he was there visiting. Bloodhound offered to help with the cooking of dinner but Elliot shooed them away with a wink, telling them that he would take care of everything. His mother lingered around the kitchen while he cooked, simply observing and offering her advice occasionally. Bloodhound climbed onto the pillows in the kitchen’s bay window and watched Elliot work, their expression unreadable. Elliot figured they might have been spaced out thinking about how Artur was doing. He joked they could simply call Natalie to ask how he was doing and they offered him a small smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. Once Evelyn heard that Bloodhound actually kept a raven and it wasn’t just a fun bit for the games, she climbed up to sit opposite them and began grilling them on birds. She told them about her interest and how she had once considered getting one as a pet but didn’t know where to start. Bloodhound was engaged immediately, their elbows leaning on their knees as they talked to Evelyn. Elliot kept glancing over at the two of them as he cooked, a fond smile on his face. He was glad they were getting along with his mother. There had been a small nagging in the back of his mind, convincing him that they would not like her or she would not approve of them or even that they never wanted to come in the first place. He had feared it had been too forward of him to even ask them to meet his mama but he was glad that he invited them. Watching them swap bird facts back and forth with his mother, tucked into the same bay window he used to sit in while he watched her cook as a child, filled him with a warm feeling. It was that feeling of home again. He couldn’t shake it. It was comfortable. He was getting comfortable. </p><p>With dinner cooked, served, and eaten, Bloodhound offered to do the dishes. Evelyn protested but they clasped her hands and shook their head, insisting that it was the least that they could do considering she was letting them into her wonderful home. Elliot helped them stack the plates and gather the utensils, bringing everything back into the kitchen to dump by the sink. Bloodhound turned the sink on and rolled their sleeves, beginning to sort the dishes to be washed. Elliot stood beside them, waiting for the sink to be filled before he could help them. In the distance, he could hear Evelyn turning the television on to some old show about car restoration. </p><p>“I shall wash if you wish to dry?” Bloodhound asked, turning to face Elliot. </p><p>He nodded and grabbed a dish towel, watching as they dunked a plate into the water and began scrubbing. Once finished, they handed it over to Elliot. He took it with a small thanks and began to dry. They started a mini production line, their teamwork getting them through the dishes faster than Elliot had thought. He was enjoying the domesticity of it all and wanted to drag it out for longer but suddenly the sink was draining and Bloodhound’s sleeves were being rolled back down. Elliot stepped behind Bloodhound and wrapped his arms around their waist, his head coming to rest on top of their head. He felt their low laughter rumble through them and tightened his grip slightly. </p><p>“Did you wanna go grocery shopping with me tomorrow?” Elliot asked. “I noticed ma is running a little low on some supplies and I can call Mara to tell her I’ll deal with it instead. I just think it’d be nice to walk around tomorrow. Weather’s supposed to be nice.”</p><p>Bloodhound hummed, their hands resting on top of Elliot’s. “That sounds wonderful, Elliot. I would love to,” they were silent for a moment before speaking again, their voice quiet and questioning. “I do not mean to overstep but I was simply curious about the sudden affection. There is nobody around us to fool.”</p><p>It felt like a shard of ice had been pushed into Elliot’s heart, embarrassment washing over him in a wave. He pulled his hands back from around Bloodhound and started stuttering nervously. “Oh, y-yeah, you’re right. Sorry. I, uh, didn’t really think about it but you’re right. No one to fool here, haha!” he ran his hands through his hair, feeling like he was under a microscope as Bloodhound stared quizzically at him. “I’ll, uh, show myself out. Gotta check on ma, make sure she hasn’t fallen down or anything. Sorry.”</p><p>He left them standing in the kitchen, their hands still placed where his own had been not moments ago. His face was beet red as he strode into the lounge. Once he could confirm that yes, his mother had not fallen over from her perch on the couch, he took the stairs two at a time to make his way into his bedroom. The door closed behind him and he leant against it, covering his face with his hands. Fuck. What was he <i>thinking</i>? Of course they weren’t going to want him to touch them when no one else was around. They weren’t <i>dating</i>. It was all a show. </p><p>Elliot sighed and pushed off of the door, grabbing their bags off of the bed and setting them up on top of his drawers. It felt almost alien being back in his old room. His mother hadn’t kept it exactly as he left it like a weird little shrine, but it was similar enough to make him feel something stir in his chest. He knew the drawers were mostly empty but the bookshelf was still heaped with old books, a childhood trophy here and there. A couple of photos lined the shelves and Elliot found himself smiling down at his first ever science fair trophy. It was sitting proudly on his old desk next to a figurine of a scorch titan his mother had helped him print. He could see the edge of a pink blue and white flag poking out from inside his closet and he felt a tug in his chest. Small details about his childhood room that made his eyes fill with tears and think about how far he had come. And here he was, pretending to date someone to convince millions of people that they weren’t so bad after all. </p><p>He found himself wondering why the hell Bloodhound had even agreed to this whole thing in the first place. Why were they still pretending to date Elliot? Surely the press thought highly enough of them before this whole charade started. Now that the public had seen a more “personal” side of Bloodhound, he figured they would have discarded him as quick as a whip. But they were still here. Maybe they felt too awkward to bring up the aforementioned public break up. Well shit. Maybe <i>he</i> was the one overstepping; overstaying his welcome in a fake relationship. That had to be a new low for him in terms of partners. </p><p>Elliot pulled his phone from his back pocket and threw himself down on the double bed, unlocking the screen with a frown. He had two messages; one from Octavio and one from Renee. He disregarded the message from Octavio for the moment. It would just be some shitty meme resent from Ajay and he wasn’t in the mood. Renee on the other hand...Elliot knew leaving Renee on read would mean certain death once he returned Bloodhound home. He opened the chat and his eyebrows raised in surprise, not expecting the contents.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: how are things going? hows your mom going? does she miss me :p</tt>
  </p>
</div><tt>stupid: she misses you so much its ridiculous</tt><br/><tt>stupid: asked about you before we even hit the 5min mark &gt;:(</tt><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>
      <i>ghostie: good : )</i>
    </tt>
  </p>
</div><i>
  <br/>
</i><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: i miss her too. her bread is to die for</tt>
  </p>
</div><tt>stupid: god ikr. come visit her sometime</tt><br/><tt>stupid: i actually think shes planning on inviting u around for xmas again so be prepared for that</tt><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: excellent. I'll bring nat</tt>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: so why are u on ur phone?</tt>
  </p>
</div><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie:she gone to bed early?</tt>
  </p>
</div><tt>stupid: nah i made an idiot of myself so im hiding. dw ill go back n face everyone in a sec lol</tt><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: so nothing new then?</tt>
  </p>
</div><tt>stupid: shut up!!</tt><br/><tt>stupid: hey wait whats my nickname in chat again is it still stupid</tt><br/><tt>stupid: ren?</tt><br/><tt>stupid: oh my god it is </tt><br/><tt>stupid: i hate you</tt><div class="center">
  <p>
    <tt>ghostie: : )</tt>
  </p>
</div>Renee disappeared offline and Elliot let his phone drop down beside him. As much as he wanted the trip to be something more personal, he found himself wishing he did invite her along. He was craving the social buffer she provided, which was saying something, considering that Renee did not know how to socialize. He’d already managed to make a fool of himself in front of Bloodhound and they hadn’t even made it through one night yet. Elliot huffed out a breath, blowing his hair back out of his face, and sat back up on the bed. Suppose it was time to show his face again.<p>He pulled himself up off of the bed and stepped back out of his bedroom, closing the door behind himself. He made his way back down the stairs and stopped at the bottom, a small smile growing on his face. He spotted his mother sitting cross legged on the couch with Bloodhound beside her. Evelyn had her knitting needles out and she was showing them her latest creation. It looked like it could be a sweater but Elliot was never really sure. He cleared his throat quietly as he stepped forward off of the stairs, moving across the room to join the two of them on the couch. Evelyn’s head shot up and her face broke out into a grin. </p><p>“Ellie! I was just showing Bloth my newest piece,” she held it up to show Elliot and he smiled. Definitely a sweater. “They saw my knitting needles and we got to chatting about it. God. Listen to me. I sound like someone’s grandma.”</p><p>“Cutest grandma I ever saw,” Elliot teased, elbowing Evelyn. She cackled, rolling her yarn up to pack back away, and stood up off of the couch. Elliot followed behind her.  “Almost time to sleep?”</p><p>Evelyn nodded, her eyes darting over to the clock up on the wall. “Way past my bedtime. Didn’t you hear? I’m a grandma now,” she looked between Bloodhound and Elliot for a moment before raising her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s too early to be asking you crazy kids for grandchildren.”</p><p>“Oh my God, mama,” Elliot’s face went bright red for the second time that night, tugging his mother towards the stairs as she continued to laugh at him. “Go to sleep. It’s late.”</p><p>Evelyn’s laughter died off slowly as she wiped away her tears of mirth. She waved a hand at Bloodhound, stepping up the stairs. “Goodnight, my loves. Don’t stay up too late or <i>el naddāha</i> will get you.” </p><p>Elliot rolled his eyes as Evelyn disappeared upstairs. Behind him, Bloodhound laughed softly. Elliot turned and their head tilted to the side. “I like your mother very much.”</p><p>“You guys sure seemed comfy,” Elliot shifted, trying not to sound jealous in his next words. “She called you Bloth?”</p><p>“Yes. A shortened nickname for <i>Blóðhundur</i>. She found it a lot easier to remember than Bloodhound and I did not mind.”</p><p>“You’ve never let me call you that.” </p><p>“You never asked.”</p><p>“Oh,” Elliot said dumbly, blinking. He hadn’t considered that one. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Bloodhound waved a hand and shook their head slightly. “No apologies needed. It was simply never something that came up. You used enough pet names for me that I did not believe nicknames were also necessary,” they pulled themselves up from the couch and one side of their mouth tugged into another smile. “Time for bed?”</p><p>Elliot nodded quickly, grateful for the subject change before he could make an ass of himself for the third time. He double checked the front door was locked before gesturing for Bloodhound to head upstairs, turning off the lights in the lounge and following them upwards. He led them into his bedroom and when the door closed behind them, a thought suddenly dawned on him. </p><p>“Oh. Oh. Uh-” Elliot crossed his arms over his chest, nervously shifting his stance. “There’s one bed in here. Didn’t think about that. It’s fine, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor. Or I could sleep on the couch.”</p><p>Bloodhound turned to face him from where they were standing, their bag unzipped. “Do not be ridiculous, Elliot. I do not mind sharing if you do not mind.”</p><p>Elliot’s brain short circuited for a moment at the thought of sharing a bed with Bloodhound and he laughed nervously, running his hands down his sides. “I d-don’t mind. Not at all! We can share. Just a couple of best buds sharin’ a bed. Nothin’ w-wrong with that.”</p><p>Bloodhound stared at him for a moment before deciding it wasn’t worth unpacking whatever the fuck was happening in front of them, turning back around to continue taking out their clothes to sleep in. Elliot opened his own bag and tugged out an old shirt and a pair of shorts. He stood with the two pieces of clothing in his hands, unsure of where to change. When Bloodhound faced Elliot once more, they seemed to sense his uncertainty and raised their hands to cover their eyes. Elliot bit back a laugh and pulled his sleep clothes on in record time, throwing his jeans and shirt to the side of the room. Bloodhound heard the clothes hit the floor and moved their fingers, peeking through. When they saw Elliot was changed, they dropped their hands and stared him down. It took Elliot an embarrassingly long time to realise they were waiting for him to do the same and he slapped his hands over his eyes with a muttered apology. He heard the sound of shifting clothes and then gentle footsteps approaching. He almost jumped out of his skin when Bloodhound’s hands came up to pull his down off of his face.</p><p>“Bed time,” Bloodhound reminded him firmly, squeezing his hands before letting go. “It is late.”</p><p>They pulled the covers back on Elliot’s old double and climbed underneath, leaving one side open for Elliot. He flicked off the light switch and navigated his way back to the bed, moving with ease in the dark. He got into the bed beside them and laid on his back, his hands folded on his stomach as he stared up at the ceiling. Something tugged in his chest when he noticed the glow in the dark stars and planets still stuck up there. He remembered when he had annoyed his brothers about being afraid of the dark. They’d found the old stickers in someone’s room and stuck them on the ceiling. Something else left to remind Elliot of them. Beside him, Bloodhound shifted and looked to the side to stare at Elliot. He turned to meet their eyes and they reached out a hand for him. Elliot took their hand and allowed himself to be pulled into their arms, his cheek resting against their chest. Something about the way that they fit together, Elliot’s leg slotting between theirs and his arm wrapping around their front, felt so easy. Their hand came up to run through his hair, pushing it back from his face in a gentle rhythm, and Elliot’s eyelids fluttered shut within minutes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hiiii i hope u enjoyed the new chapter &lt;3 Elliot is an absolute idiot...he's also trans. I cast transgenderification beam on him. also if the html is fucky on this one let me know..the text portion really took it out of me ;__; </p><p>just a heads up, next chapter will bump the rating to E......so uh. look forward to that ^_&lt;</p><p>come and talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> have a wonderful day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. oh GOD</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> no, I don't want to think about it x8 </i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi! just a quick note; this fic got bumped to an explicit rating! if you want to skip that section, it will be at the end of the chapter! </p>
<p>happy reading! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Elliot woke in the morning, his arm was stretched across an empty bed. It took him a moment to realise Bloodhound wasn’t beside him and he sat up, mind still groggy. Elliot pushed his hair back out of his face and sighed, reaching across to his bedside table to grab his phone. The screen flashed up, showing him the time, and his eyes widened. He had slept in </span>
  <em>
    <span>hardcore</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot hauled himself out of bed and dressed himself, making his way out of his room and back downstairs to check on his mom. He found her in the kitchen with Bloodhound, the latter standing in front of the stovetop. Evelyn was seated at the tiny table by the window, her knitting needles and yarn sitting on the surface before her. The two of them were talking but quietened down when they heard him walking in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Halló</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Elliot,” Bloodhound threw him a smile over their shoulder and Elliot perked up at the smell of coffee. “I was just making some coffee for your mother.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stood behind Bloodhound, resting his chin on their shoulder as he peered down at the coffee machine. “Enough for two?” he asked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always,” Bloodhound turned their head slightly to press a quick kiss to Elliot’s cheek and he felt his face heat up. Behind him, he could hear his mother chuckling at the display. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stood back and cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Sorry for sleeping in. Could have sworn I set an alarm to get up early and help you out, mama.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you did set an alarm,” Bloodhound squinted up at Elliot and he raised an eyebrow at them, confused. “I turned it off and let you sleep in. It was no bother to help Evelyn down the stairs.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They even made me breakfast earlier,” Evelyn piped up behind them. She sighed happily, her chin resting on her hand. “You’ve got a keeper here, Ell. Hold onto them tight and don’t let go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Guilt twinged in Elliot’s chest and he busied himself with collecting mugs for the coffee. He pulled his mother’s favourite from the shelf and an old company branded one for himself. Behind him, he could hear his mom humming a tune under her breath, accompanied by the tell tale click clack of her knitting needles. Once the coffee was prepared, he swung around to place the mug in front of her. She thanked him quietly as she gathered her needles in one hand to pick the coffee up with the other. With her things collected, she stood up and showed a wide smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be in my workshop if you crazy kids need me for anything.” Bloodhound stifled a laugh, raising their cup of tea toward her and she excused herself, disappearing down the hallway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once she was gone, Elliot turned to face Bloodhound. “What were you two talkin’ about?” he kept his tone neutral but he knew Bloodhound could see through his shit. He wanted to know if they were talking about him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was telling her about my upbringing. She had questions about my home town and what it was like to grow up outside of the city limits,” One of their hands came up to hold their arm and they shifted from foot to foot. “It was nice to talk of home once more. I sometimes forget how much I miss it. The noise of the city is too much for me at times but it is my home now. I must endure.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’d be nice to live in the forest,” Elliot sighed dramatically, leaning against the cupboard as he held his coffee mug close. “Surrounded by nature. No rules. Maybe keep a little farm. Imagine having a little sheep farm. Oh my God, imagine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You would not last upkeeping a farm, Ellie. You sleep in too late and you enjoy your fancy coffee too much.” Bloodhound looked very pointedly at the mug in Elliot’s hands. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! You like my fancy coffee,” Elliot said defensively. “You steal it from me every morning.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound hummed, pushing away from the kitchen bench to stand in front of Elliot. They placed their tea on the bench and brought their hands up to cup around Elliot’s, a small affectionate smile on their face. “You make an excellent point, </span>
  <em>
    <span>elskan</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” They moved Elliot’s hands up so they could steal a sip of his coffee, proving his point, but Elliot was too engrossed in watching their lips to care. With a small approving noise, they let go of his hands and stood back. “What is the plan for today?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” Elliot mentally shook himself and frowned for a moment. “Uh. We need to go get some groceries for ma. She’s running a little low on supplies and I promised her carer, Mara, that I would restock for her while I was here.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Will I get to meet Mara again?” Bloodhound asked, their head tilted. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably not this time around,” Elliot scratched the back of his neck and glanced at his mom’s calendar. “When she was here last night I told her we were gonna be here for a couple days so she could take a vay….vaca…..v-uh-uh- a holiday. Some time off. We got this covered.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded slowly and opened their mouth as if to say something before they closed it again. Their forehead creased as they very clearly thought of the right words to say. Elliot watched them thinking, a feeling of fondness filling his chest. It made him warm inside whenever he remembered that he was trusted enough to see Bloodhound’s face. He could tell by the way their face moved that they were not used to masking their emotions like he was. One of the benefits to wearing a real mask when out in the public eye. Sometimes he was jealous of the anonymity they had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you do not mind my asking...what is the purpose of your mother’s carer?” They picked up their tea and took a sip as they waited for his answer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot blinked for a moment, thinking. “I guess her job is mostly to take care of ma. She’s over in the mornings and in the night to help with routines. She also helps with cooking and cleaning sometimes but ma tells me that they like to share that workload. She wasn’t entirely on board with the idea. She thinks she doesn’t need it. I didn’t either but her leg gave out going down the stairs one day a couple years back. Lucky she was near the bottom so it was fine but it really kicked my ass into looking for someone to help her. I would’ve moved back home and done it myself but I’d just started with the Games so I was never home.” Elliot sighed and ran a hand through his hair, wrinkling his nose when he felt how unkempt it was.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You feel guilty,” Bloodhound observed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot visibly cringed at their words. No one had ever said it to him out loud before. “A little. I feel like I should be doing more for her,” Elliot shrugged his shoulders and made a face. “Not really a lot I can do. She won’t let me. Absolute spitfire, that one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound chuckled, catching on to his attempt to change the subject. “She is an incredible woman.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t know what I’d do without her,” Elliot smiled softly. “She’s had to put up with so much of my shit. I feel like I have to apologise to her one day. Even if it’s just about teenage me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sure you weren’t entirely terrible,” Bloodhound teased. “It could not have been as bad as you are now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my God, asshole!” Elliot laughed, bumping his shoulder against Bloodhound’s. “I was a dramatic little shit. Guess I still am. She’s had to put up with me crying over so many break ups. Poor woman.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it is nice that you have such a closeness with her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes I feel like I tell her </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>much. But she’s my mama. Who else am I supposed to tell?” Elliot laughed again, louder this time. “God, she had to put up with me when I was losing my mind about meaningless sex with some stranger at a bar. I felt so guilty about fooling around with them because I thought it meant we had to start dating and I wasn’t interested. She basically smacked me upside the head and told me one night stands were okay as long as everyone was comfortable. God. Yeah, I’ve put this woman through too much. I’m the worst.” He raised his mug to his lips to drink his coffee, still half giggling to himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever thought about having sex with me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot choked on his coffee at the bluntness of Bloodhound’s question, leaning over to try and compose himself. Bloodhound waited patiently, staring him down as he coughed. “W-What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a thought that occured to me. If you had ever considered asking if I wished to have sex with you,” Bloodhound looked Elliot up and down over the top of their tea for a moment, their brows furrowing in thought. “I know it must be difficult to not be able to pursue those things at the moment. And I know that you are no stranger to more intimate relationships with your close friends.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stared at Bloodhound, his coffee now sitting forgotten on the benchtop. “I don’t think that Octavio really counts. I think for him it was just convenience, the fact that I can keep up with him, and I know how to give good head,” he froze for a moment, watching Bloodhound’s face go bright red. “Sorry. That wasn’t-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is alright. I was simply curious,” Bloodhound finished the last of their tea before placing the empty mug in the sink and turning back to raise an eyebrow at Elliot. “I have, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Have what?” Elliot asked dumbly, blinking.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thought about it.” Without another word, Bloodhound walked past Elliot and out of the room, leaving him to splutter a half formed response they could barely hear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hound, you can’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>that and leave!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>⁝</b>
  
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Collecting Evelyn’s surprisingly short list of groceries didn’t take very long for the two of them. Bloodhound was content to push the cart around, their forearms resting along the bar as they watched Elliot pace the aisles to grab what his mother needed. They had opted to wear a simple black mask, their hair pulled back from their face into several intertwining braids. Elliot had sat on the bed and watched them as they braided, enviously of how quickly their fingers moved through their hair. They had given him a warm smile and a promise to teach him how one day. He promised it was a date. The two of them had hardly been recognised whilst out and for that, Elliot was grateful. He had noticed someone trying to discreetly take a photo and a reporter </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>so discreetly taking one but overall the streets had been quiet. It felt painfully domestic to weave through the aisles of the grocery store with Bloodhound in tow, laughing at his jokes and reminding him of things he had forgotten to add to the list. He found himself wondering if they were watching him from behind the circled sunglasses they wore or if they also felt a tug in their chest when his hand brushed theirs after he passed them something to place in the cart. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Walking back to his mother’s, one arm heavy with bags and the other holding onto Bloodhound’s hand, Elliot felt at home. It was not a feeling he experienced often and not one he entirely knew how to handle. This feeling was one that was usually reserved for holidays and visits to his mother’s house so it was foreign territory for him to feel this way about a </span>
  <em>
    <span>person</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He couldn’t stop thinking about the talk he had with Makoa back at the bar. The way Makoa had smiled knowingly at him, his eyes sparkling as he watched Elliot wade through his feelings like the emotionally constipated idiot he was. He had laughed and talked him through it, unknowing about the entire situation and yet it felt like he saw through Elliot’s bullshit. But now Elliot was stuck running his mind around in circles thinking about how it had felt to say that he loved Bloodhound out loud. At the time, it had felt premature and a little too hasty but now it sat in Elliot’s chest like a rock. Makoa’s words rolled around in his mind, distracting him as they walked hand in hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot Witt had it </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He blinked and realised they were out the front of his mother’s house and Bloodhound was looking up at him almost expectantly. “Huh?” he asked dumbly, shaking his head slightly. “Sorry. S-spaced out for a second.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound squeezed his hand before letting go, opening the front door. “It is alright, Ellie. I only wished to tell you we had made it home.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot’s heart skipped at hearing Bloodhound refer to it as </span>
  <em>
    <span>home </span>
  </em>
  <span>and he almost slapped himself. It was so stupid. There was no way that Bloodhound had meant it that way but God, a man could dream. He probably </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He set his half of the grocery load on the floor of the kitchen and chewed on his lip as he watched Bloodhound do the same. They asked if he would be okay putting it all away by himself and he nodded, still distracted. They stepped forward to kiss his cheek before backing out of the kitchen, presumably to find Evelyn. It left Elliot alone, one hand rising to press against the place where their lips had been.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took a moment for Elliot’s brain to re-engage enough for him to start picking the groceries up and sorting them. One by one, he put everything away in its rightful place. His movements were slow as he worked, pausing every now and again to frown towards the doorway. His head was buzzing with too many thoughts as he slid the milk into the fridge and stared at the loaf of bread waiting on the bench top like it held the secrets of the universe. Bloodhound was so comfortable with him that they kissed him on the cheek with no one else watching. Did it mean something? Did they forget there was no one in the kitchen but the two of them? Was it something that they did with all of their friends? For the first time, Elliot realised that Bloodhound was comfortable in the fake relationship. He knew their intentions were different to his own but God, he had to be careful. One stray kiss and he risked letting something slip about how he really felt and it would be over. No way they stick around after that. Elliot groaned, letting himself fall forward until his forehead rested against the cool metal of the fridge. There he goes again. King of overthinking fuckin’ strikes again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head jerked back up from the fridge when he heard music filtering in from down the hall. Gentle piano notes were coming from the living room. Elliot’s heart felt heavy as he stood and listened to his mama playing, presumably for Bloodhound. It had been so long since he had been home, he had forgotten how nice it was to hear her play. He left the kitchen, beelining for the living room where he found her sitting on the stool in front of the piano. Bloodhound sat on the other side of the stool, watching her fingers move along the keys. They both had their backs to Elliot but he could hear Bloodhound humming along quietly, slightly out of time. Elliot walked up to them and leant himself against the side of the piano, smiling down at Evelyn. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds like you still got it, mama,” he said. She smiled up at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “What are you playin’?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing in particular,” Evelyn responded, her hands still running along the keys. “I was just telling Bloth about how I tried to teach you to play when you were small but you never quite got the hang of it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I tried my best! I learnt that one worm song for you. We can’t all be musical geniuses!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you were just a regular genius,” Evelyn teased. Beside her, Bloodhound chuckled. “Do you still remember the Inch Worm?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe? It’s been like, way too long since I’ve played the piano, mama.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evelyn’s hands stopped and she pushed herself up, off of the stool. “No time like the present, Ellie! Play your mama a song, won’t you?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She ushered Elliot into the stool, beside Bloodhound, and he tried to keep himself as composed as possible. He could feel his cheeks heating up as Bloodhound stared at him expectantly, his mother taking his place as she leaned on the top of the piano and watched him. Elliot took in a deep breath and let his hands rest on the keys of the piano, moving on muscle memory alone. The music came back to him as he played, easier than he thought that it would. Evelyn quietly sang along with him and Elliot’s mouth pulled into a smile. He joined her, singing under his breath as he let his fingers move. His voice was scratchy as he sang but he couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. His mother’s voice was beautiful as always, clear and sweet. Bloodhound was watching the two of them with a quiet reverence, completely still as if they were worried they would break the moment by moving. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When the song ended and Elliot’s hands stopped moving, he heard Bloodhound let out a breath they had apparently been holding. Evelyn was smiling down at the two of them, her eyes fond as she clasped her hands in front of herself. “That was beautiful, Ellie,” she said quietly. “Just like we used to.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My voice isn’t what it used to be,” Elliot huffed out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Don’t really sing much anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evelyn shook her head, reaching a hand out to pat through his hair. “You always had such a unique voice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Part of Elliot wanted to shy away from his mother’s hand running through his hair. He was worried she was going to mess it up with the sheer amount of product he used but mostly it was threatening to bring the waterworks out. There was something so incredibly comforting to him about having someone run their hands through his hair so gently, bringing a sense of calm to him. He remembered how she used to read to him before bed, curled up on top of his comforter under the glow of his night light. He would lie by her side as she read and wait for his brothers to invade the bedroom and join them, all of them clambering in to pile together and listen to Evelyn as she read to them. Many nights spent that way, Evelyn’s hand carding through his soft curls as he fell asleep by her side. Elliot felt the beginning of tears pricking behind his eyes and he jerked his head away, sniffing and trying to clear the tears before they shed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, mama. Enough with the flattery,” he joked, shooting her a smile. “Gotta start thinking about what you wanna do for dinner. I was thinkin’ pork chops. I know they’re your favourite.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Evelyn clapped her hands once and pushed back from the piano, gesturing for Bloodhound and Elliot to follow. They both obliged and followed her to the kitchen. With a wide smile, she started to gather the ingredients needed for the pork chops and once he recognised that she was on board with his idea, Elliot rubbed his hands together and joined her. Bloodhound stood by the corner of the kitchen, watching mother and son as they milled around the kitchen like a well oiled machine, collecting everything they needed for the recipe with not a word spoken between them. Elliot noticed them standing by themselves and stopped in his tracks, holding out a hand for them. They offered a small smile, reaching out to take his hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wanna learn how to make the super secret Witt pork chops?” Elliot asked in a stage whisper, making Bloodhound giggle. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not know how much of a secret it is, my love. You did go into detail about the recipe on interplanetary broadcast,” Bloodhound reminded him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot waved a hand, making a face. “That doesn’t count! I told it all wrong,” he pointed an accusing finger at Evelyn, who was watching him while fighting back a laugh. “This one has awful handwriting! How was I supposed to know that said a pinch of cloves and not fifteen grams!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Those are two very different things, Ellie,” his mother replied sternly, not a hint of malice in her tone. Her eyes sparkled as she laughed at him. “It’s not my fault that you read it wrong and can’t admit it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stuck out his tongue childishly and turned his back away from Evelyn, facing the countertop. He pulled Bloodhound close by their still-intertwined hand and maneuvered them in front of him. “Right! Anyway! Here’s what you gotta do-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound let Elliot guide their hands while he measured out the ingredients for the glaze, Evelyn preparing the pork chops on the other side of the kitchen. Elliot tried really hard not to think about how close they were; how he could feel the catch in their breathing when his hand rested over theirs after they tried to grab the wrong measuring spoon. Together they mixed all the ingredients into a bowl and Elliot took a step back, allowing Bloodhound to stir everything together. He busied himself looking through his mother’s pantry and she raised an eyebrow at him from where she was finishing up searing the pork chops. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you looking for?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Trying to see if you have any pineapple, mama,” he called over his shoulder. Evelyn appeared by his side, her eyebrows drawn together in a frown. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t remember pineapple being a part of the recipe,” her voice sounded so small and uncertain, it turned Elliot around immediately. “Surely I would’ve remembered something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, ma, it’s okay. You didn’t forget,” Elliot closed the door to the pantry and met eyes with Evelyn. “It’s just a little somethin’ extra I add sometimes. Personal pref-pre…..p….</span>
  <em>
    <span>choice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Personal choice.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of preparation for the pork chops went by without a problem. It felt different to last night’s dinner routine. This time Bloodhound was up and about, helping out where they could and instead Evelyn was sitting in the bay window. She had complained about a headache, which worried Elliot, but she had shooed him away and made a joke that the two of them could handle dinner just fine on their own. Bloodhound was hanging onto Elliot’s every word, eager to learn a new recipe, and he was more than willing to teach them a family secret. The domesticity of the moment kept tugging in the back of Elliot’s mind and he kept pushing the feeling down. This was just two friends cooking together. Nothing more than that. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After dinner was finished and the three had eaten, Bloodhound once again excused themselves to clean up the dishes. Elliot let them go, opting to stay with Evelyn in the dining room. He offered her painkillers for her headache but she refused, telling him she would be heading upstairs to bed soon. She joked about how she was an old woman now and Elliot laughed with her. While Bloodhound was busy, he helped his mother up the stairs and into her bedroom. Once she convinced him that she was perfectly capable of getting herself into bed, he wished her goodnight, closed the door, and headed back downstairs. Bloodhound had just finished in the kitchen, standing in the doorway as they turned the light off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Halló,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” they looked behind Elliot, looking a little confused. “Has Evelyn gone to bed?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I just took her upstairs. I’ll be honest, I don’t know if she remembered that you were here but I wouldn’t take that one too personally. I’m sure she woulda said goodnight otherwise,” Elliot smiled down at them. “She really likes you, y’know. Really approves of my taste in partners.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed softly, walking up to join Elliot on the bottom step. “I suppose it is a good thing that I am stuck with you then,” Elliot blinked in surprise at their words but before he could ask, they were tugging him upstairs. “We should also retire to bed soon, Elliot. We have an early start tomorrow. As much as I have enjoyed our time here, I am sure Artur misses me as much as I miss him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot followed Bloodhound down the hall to his room, having to lead them to the right room when they tried to enter the upstairs bathroom. The way they elbowed him, their face flushing red with embarrassment, pulled at Elliot’s heart. The two of them followed the same routine of changing into sleep clothes, taking turns in covering eyes with hands for privacy’s sake. It was a certain sort of soft that made Elliot smile as they climbed into bed. He left the lamp on the side table on as he laid down. He wasn’t even close to tired yet. He wasn’t used to going to bed so early. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he glanced around the room, trying to will himself to feel even the slightest bit tired, Elliot began to do what he did best. He started to overthink things. He thought about Bloodhound in the kitchen that morning, leaning over and stealing a sip of his coffee without a care in the world. He thought about the way that their hands had threaded through their hair whilst they were braiding it for the day. How much he wished it was his fingers running through their hair. Bloodhound shifted beside him, letting out a soft sigh as they nestled closer to their pillow, and Elliot scolded himself. He needed to stop thinking about them that way. It wasn’t right. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although, Elliot thought to himself, they had told him that morning that they had thought about sex with him before. Elliot found himself frowning, wondering if their consideration had been before or after this whole fake romance ordeal had gone down. Surely it was a recent development. They had barely noticed he existed before they had started their pretend dating, besides all of the times he had flirted with them in a televised blood sport. How many times had they thought about it? Elliot imagined Bloodhound spread out across their bed, hand between their thighs and their head full of thoughts of him, and his cheeks went bright red. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stared up at the ceiling, chewing on his bottom lip as he thought of something to say. Bloodhound was silent beside him, turned onto one side with their eyes closed. For a moment, Elliot considered that they could already be sleeping but he decided to throw all caution to the wind and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, can I ask why you brought up sex this morning?" Elliot said, keeping his voice as steady as he could.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound opened their eyes slowly and looked over at Elliot. "It was simply a thought that had crossed my mind and I wished to know if you had thought the same. I apologise if I made you uncomfortable. I realise that I should have asked you beforehand if it was a subject you were alright with me bringing up."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No I-it's fine, I was just…" Elliot trailed off, blush still staining his cheeks. "I was wondering if the offer was still on the table. If you </span>
  <em>
    <span>were </span>
  </em>
  <span>offering, that is."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound sat up and faced Elliot, pushing their hair back out of their face. "Are you asking if I would like to have sex with you right now?" Elliot covered his face with his hands and Bloodhound laughed softly. They climbed over until they were sitting on top of his lap, their hands reaching down to pull his own away from his face. "This is a serious offer, Witt."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot's eyes were wide as they looked up at Bloodhound above him. They looked beautiful in the soft light, a small smile lingering on their face. "I mean, if you want."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I need a definite yes or no, Ellie," the nickname made Elliot's heart flutter in his chest and he nodded quickly. "Yes?</span>
  <em>
    <span> Allt í lagi</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot sat up until he was face to face with Bloodhound, one of his hands coming up to rest on their cheek. "At least never of us have to have the whole </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I'm not cis'</span>
  </em>
  <span> conversation, right? I know you're not gonna run out as soon as I take my pants off. I had that experience with a dude once."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound's hand rested on top of Elliot's, their gaze soft. "I am sorry that happened to you. I promise that I will treat you with all of the kindness you deserve."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their words stunned Elliot into uncharacteristic silence and they took advantage of the moment to lean across to kiss him. Elliot’s other hand came up to pull through their hair, his fingers tangling in the long strands. They smiled into the kiss, bringing both their hands up to hold his face. Elliot’s heart was racing and he didn’t know what to do. Usually he was the suave one, having a one liner to throw or some flirty move he could pull but when it came to Bloodhound, something inside of him turned to jelly. They had him like putty in their hands as they kissed their way down his neck, stopping to bite gently at his throat. His hips rolled forward and they kept going, starting to suck a bruise there. Elliot’s hands wandered down, pulling their hips closer to him and they made a small noise in the back of their throat. Elliot grinned, breathless, and let his hips grind upwards against them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I touch you?” he whispered, not wanting to move further without explicit consent. Bloodhound nodded, their nose pressed in beside the fresh mark on his neck, and Elliot let his hands run over their thighs. His hands paused at the waistband of their sweatpants and he let out a tiny laugh, craning his neck to try to get them to look at him. “Are these </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound pushed their face further into Elliot’s neck and grumbled. Elliot bumped his nose against them and they sighed. “I forgot to bring my own so I stole a pair from you. I did not think there would be an issue.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There isn’t. I think i-it’s cute,” One of Elliot’s hands slid beneath the waistband of the sweats to gently pull them down and Bloodhound inhaled sharply, helping him shimmy them out of their pants. Bloodhound grabbed the bottom of their shirt and pulled it over their head in one motion, leaving them in their briefs on Elliot’s lap. “You can b-borrow my clothes anytime, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe this is as good a time as any to ask if you have a preference on language. I do not wish to make you uncomfortable with how I speak or if there are any parts of you that you do not wish for me to touch,” Bloodhound said. “I do not mind what words you use for me and I do not mind where you touch me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot paused and considered for a moment. “Huh. I guess I don’t really care that much either. Never thought about it much. No one’s been con...consid….c-considerate? Cared? Yeah. No one has cared enough to ask,” Bloodhound moved to sit up straight while on top of Elliot, their face pulled into a frown and Elliot was quick to brush it off. “It’s fine though! I genuinely don’t care what you call my junk. Doesn’t bother me. And I’m the same. Touch is a-okay.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s head tilted as they studied his face. “As long as you are okay, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ást</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot smiled sweetly and spat down into his hand, raising an eyebrow at them. Bloodhound’s nose wrinkled at the crude gesture but watched intently as he moved to slide his hand under their briefs to pull them out. “More than okay, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hand wrapped around their dick and the noise they made had Elliot’s heart racing again. They leant back in his lap, one hand pushing their hair back out of their eyes as Elliot began to slowly jerk them off. Their hips twitched forwards and Elliot could not tear his eyes away from their face. They had their eyes closed, head tipped back, with their bottom lip caught between their teeth. The light from his bedside lamp washed over them in a warm orange, catching their movements as he watched them. Elliot ran his thumb over the head of their dick and the movement in their hips stuttered. Bloodhound’s eyes opened slowly and they stared down at Elliot, their mouth pulling up into a smile. They leant forward until they could capture his lips in a kiss, Elliot’s hand never stopping between the two of them. They groaned against him and he picked up the pace slightly, kissing them deeper still. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound ground their hips forward into Elliot's hand as they moved to let their forehead rest on his shoulder, their face turned in towards him. Elliot's free hand carded through their hair, pushing it away from their face again and holding their head in place as he smiled at them. "You doin' okay, Houndie?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound moaned softly in response, their eyes closing again. They pressed a kiss to Elliot's shoulder and sat up slightly, leaning themselves over him with a hand braced on the headboard. "You are not entirely terrible at this," they said, voice breathless. The hand Elliot still had bunched in their hair gave a gentle tug and their breathing caught in their throat. "I do not believe I will last long if you keep this up."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot's smile grew wider, the pace on his hand slowing down ever so slightly as he jerked them off. Their eyes snapped open again, a silent warning flashing across them. "Been a while?" he teased.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I will have Artur peck your eyes out, Witt, do not test me," Elliot's hand stilled completely and Bloodhound groaned, their hips chasing the friction again. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Vinsamlegast, nr</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Farðu til baka</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ellie-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I-I want you to fuck me," Elliot met Bloodhound's eyes as they stared down at him. "If that's o-okay with you. I understand if you-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Já</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Yes.” Bloodhound leant their head back and Elliot’s hand let go of their hair to move towards their jaw instead. His hand rested there for a moment, thumb running across their bottom lip. They pressed a kiss to his thumb and smiled. "I would love nothing more, </span>
  <em>
    <span>elskan</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot surged forward to kiss them, his hand still cupping their jaw. He could feel their hands running down his sides, grabbing the ends of his shirt and pulling up. He broke the kiss for a moment to let them tug it over his head and throw it to the side before he was dragging them back to his lips. Bloodhound tried their best to maneuver the two of them around without breaking their kiss again but failed, making Elliot laugh. He sat back and allowed himself to be turned around and laid down on his back, his head down the wrong end of the bed. Bloodhound made a little face at him as they pulled off their briefs that made him laugh again and they climbed on top of him, leaning down to shut him up with a quick kiss. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your pants?” Bloodhound asked, leaning back to look down at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What about ‘em?” Their eyebrow raised and Elliot’s eyes widened. “Oh! Yeah! My bad! You can take ‘em off.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With a low chuckle, Bloodhound hooked their thumbs into Elliot’s shorts and pulled them down, throwing them to the side. They blinked when they saw he hadn’t been wearing any underwear underneath. “Expecting something?” they teased, a hand running up his thigh. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Sætur</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot’s face flushed red and he squirmed under their touch. “N-no, I just-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am only joking with you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>krúttið mitt</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Their hand skated across his thigh and rested on his hip. They looked down at Elliot, their face questioning, and he nodded quickly. Elliot arched his back with a quiet groan as their hand moved down. He felt them run their fingers down the length of him, through the wetness, and bringing their middle finger back up to move in slow circles over his clit. “Alright?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, this is good. Better than good. I feel sort of nervous. Is that okay? F-fuck, okay, this is really good. I’m sorry, I’m talking a lot-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound stifled a laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to Elliot’s forehead. There was something so intimate about the gesture that Elliot’s mouth snapped shut and he met their eyes, something pulling in his chest when he saw how fondly they were staring at him. All the while, they were still rubbing agonisingly slow circles over him. “You can talk all you want, Ellie. I do not mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He moved his hips upward, a small frown knitted across his brow. “More. Please. Fingers...or anything, God, just please. More.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot’s breathing hitched as Bloodhound obliged, easily pressing one finger inside him. He groaned quietly, his hands moving to grip at the sheets below him as Bloodhound leaned further over him. His thighs were beginning to shake as they started to fuck him hard and fast on their hand, leaving open mouthed kisses down his exposed throat. His mouth was open, little whines escaping, and Bloodhound’s free hand came up to cover over his mouth, muffling the loud noises. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You must be quiet, my love,” Bloodhound said quietly, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to his cheek. “As wonderful as your noises are, I am unsure if the whole neighbourhood wishes to indulge in them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot huffed and tried to come back with a snappy retort but Bloodhound kept pace as they added a second finger, watching his face as his eyes rolled back slightly. Their thumb kept brushing against his clit; enough to keep him on the edge but not enough to push him over. Bloodhound dropped their head to nose gently at his throat, pausing to gently bite at the side of Elliot’s neck. He pushed upwards, praying for Bloodhound to leave more marks. Something to remind him that this was real and this was happening. Something to press his fingers against in the mirror in the morning. His breathing sped up as he felt Bloodhound start to suck another bruise along his neck, stopping every now and again to run their tongue over the slowly growing mark. Their hand moved away from his mouth with a quick warning look and Elliot bit down on his lip hard to stifle his noises. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You will be the end of me, Elliot Witt,” Bloodhound said, their free hand reaching down to grab one of his. They threaded their fingers together with his own and held his hand down against the bed, above his head. “You look so beautiful beneath me. A vision sent from Freyr himself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“F-fuck,” Elliot felt Bloodhound’s teeth brush against his throat again and they moved their wrist, hitting a new angle inside him. A loud gasp escaped him and he flushed red. “Shit, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Say please?” Bloodhound teased, slowing down. Elliot whined loudly in response, frustrated, and they resumed pace, kissing his neck in apology. His thighs were pushed open even further as they pressed up against him, fucking him hard with their fingers and finally giving him the pressure he wanted against his clit. He moaned, louder than intended, and Bloodhound kissed him again, clumsy as they tried to keep their pace steady. Elliot’s grip on their hand above his head tightened, squeezing hard as he came with a muted whine. His head was thrown back, his eyes squeezed shut as he rode it out. Eventually he was squirming beneath them, panting from overstimulation. Thankfully Bloodhound retracted their hand as they smiled down at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ástin mín</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” they asked, sitting back to watch him as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Elliot shot them a look and they laughed quietly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Give me...a second,” he sat up on his elbows and huffed out a breath, tossing his hair back out of his face. Bloodhound pressed a quick kiss to his lips and Elliot frowned when they sat back again. “No, come back here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Foolish,” Bloodhound allowed themselves to be pulled back down, their next words murmured against his lips. “Whatever will I do with you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m thinkin’ more along the lines of what will </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> do with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Elliot replied, pushing a hand to Bloodhound’s chest to sit them up. He followed, climbing up into their lap; a mirror of where they started. His hand continued to push them backwards until they were pressed against the sheets, looking up at him with such trust that it twisted guilt in his stomach. Bloodhound’s hands braced on Elliot’s thighs as he wrapped his hand back around their dick, slowly stroking them. “P-personally I can’t stop thinking about how you’d feel i-inside me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound groaned low in their throat, their fingers digging into Elliot’s thighs and leaving indents on his skin. He found himself wishing it would leave a mark. “Do you have…. </span>
  <em>
    <span>skítur...</span>
  </em>
  <span>the word escapes me. I cannot-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Condom?” Elliot asked, his hand stilling between them. He moved to place his hands on top of theirs across his thighs and rolled his hips forward. Their head fell back against the sheets and their hips ground upwards, trying to follow the friction. “Should still have some in the bedside drawer. From when Renee and I were together, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something akin to jealousy flashed in Bloodhound’s eyes at the mention of someone else and Elliot didn’t know what to do with that. Pushing the feeling aside, he leant over Bloodhound to pull the drawer out and rifle through, sending a silent thank you to whatever God was watching and left him with half a pack. He ripped one free and tore through the foil, locking eyes with Bloodhound. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can put this on with my mouth if you were, uh, interested.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound bit back a noise and shook their head. “As tempting as that is, Ell, I am simply not patient enough.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eager, are we?” Elliot grinned as he rolled the condom down and got himself comfortable in their lap. Bloodhound frowned up at him and he pouted back. “Don’t give me that look. I’m too handsome to be frowned at.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their serious face broke and Bloodhound laughed, their hands skirting up to hold Elliot by the waist. “You are right,” they murmured, their expression turning soft. “Far too handsome to be treated with anything but kindness.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot stared down at them with a quiet sort of reverie, the warm light of his lamp still washing over them. Their hair was loose from its earlier ties and fanned out behind them, looking soft as ever. When had they taken their hair out? They looked ethereal below him and Elliot took a moment to drink it all in. He was so used to one night stands after shifts at the bar and the occassional quick fuck with Octavio that having someone look at him with such trust and warmth felt entirely foreign. He never thought it would get this far. He never thought that they would even </span>
  <em>
    <span>kiss </span>
  </em>
  <span>him during this whole fake relationship, let alone fuck him. The realisation that they weren’t doing this because they loved him in the same way he loved them began to creep in the back of his mind and Elliot snapped out of it. He had been staring at them for far too long.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright?” he asked, thoughts still tugging at the edges of his brain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted his hips and started to guide Bloodhound inside himself, their hands tightening around his waist. His heart fluttered as he noticed the way their hands fit around him, flexing against his skin. He let out a deep breath, sinking down on them slowly. He could feel Bloodhound twitch under him, wanting to thrust up into him but keeping themselves at bay for his sake. One of Elliot’s hands splayed across their chest, his head falling forward as he bottomed out with a quiet moan. He bit down on his lip as he started moving his hips steadily, keeping his pace slow as he adjusted. He lifted his eyes to check on Bloodhound and he shuddered at seeing their head thrown to the side, hair strewn across their face with their eyes shut tight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>well, puppy,” Elliot breathed. Bloodhound’s eyes opened and they gave him a warning look that Elliot met with a cocky smile, showing his teeth as he dared them to tell him off. “You’re so good to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound whined as Elliot picked up the pace slightly, rising and falling on top of them at a leisurely speed. It all felt entirely too romantic for Elliot to ignore. The way that Bloodhound's hands slid up his thighs to meet his own, their fingers tangling together as Elliot's hips rolled down. Something about how their eyes never left his face, always checking in to make sure he was okay. The way that they gasped as he leaned down to press an open kiss to their throat, his teeth grazing their skin. It wasn't right for him to do this. He felt like he was using them to act out this fantasy that it was all real; that Bloodhound </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> his partner. That they </span>
  <em>
    <span>loved</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. But the way they let out a moan past their bitten lips, one hand moving to grip his hip tight as they changed the pace for him, sparked something in Elliot. He could feel their thumb rubbing soothing circles into his hip as they moved and it made his breath catch in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot’s head shook side to side as if he could dislodge the thoughts physically. He pulled their joined hands up above Bloodhound’s head, anchoring them down by the wrists as he rolled his hips on top of them. He took the moment to lean down and kiss them, savouring in the way they panted beneath him after the kiss broke. Their fingers flexed against his own and he let them go, their hands immediately rising to his face to pull him back down. He let them kiss him for a while, the slow roll of his hips keeping him just on the edge, until he felt their hands sliding through his hair. With the slightest bit of force, they pulled Elliot upwards until they were both sitting upright, face to face. Elliot stilled in their lap, his eyes wide as he stared at them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“May I move you?” Bloodhound asked, sounding breathless. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot nodded quickly and let himself be pushed backwards onto the bed, Bloodhound slipping out of him as they readjusted themselves on top of him. His legs were spread wide as they crowded close to him, guiding themselves back inside of him with their free hand gripping the sheets beside his head. Elliot’s head lolled back against the sheets, a whispered curse falling from his lips. His breaths were coming out in short gasps as Bloodhound set a steady pace. One of Elliot’s hands snapped up to hold onto Bloodhound’s above his head, squeezing it tight as they fucked him. He felt the familiar warmth settling in his stomach and near-whimpered, begging Bloodhound to go faster. They obliged, their pace speeding up, and Elliot’s mouth fell open as he bounced underneath them. He felt Bloodhound’s other hand snake between them to jerk him off as they leant in to try and kiss him. It was all too much for Elliot and he came with a sharp gasp, his forehead pressing against theirs. Bloodhound’s fast pace faltered for a moment and they gasped out a low curse before going tense, a scratchy moan spilling from their lips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Both of their chests were rising and falling rapidly as Bloodhound pressed a firm kiss to Elliot’s cheek, pulling out of him and disposing of the condom in the waste bin beside Elliot’s bed. Elliot lay spread across the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling as he listened to Bloodhound moving around. It almost frightened him when he felt them settle between his thighs and he lifted his head to stare down at them. Their head was tilted to the side, an unspoken question between them as their fingers danced along his thigh. Elliot’s head fell back against the bed with a low groan and he lifted his hips slightly. Their mouth was on him in a second, and his fingers threaded through their hair as they ate him out, quickly pulling the third orgasm of the night from him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They leant their cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him as he tried to catch his breath. His fingers were slowly carding through their hair as they watched him and Elliot let out a small laugh. “Come here, pup.” Bloodhound let themselves be pulled up on top of Elliot, their next kiss open mouthed and ungraceful. Elliot felt the slide of their tongue against his own, his hands tugging through their loose hair. He pulled back with a sigh, Bloodhound nuzzling into his neck. “We have to sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed at his statement, the sound rumbling against his chest. “We have stayed up much later than intended.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Elliot was silent for a moment before pursing his lips. “You have to remind me to empty that trash can in the morning. Poor Mara would have a heart attack if she ever cleaned in here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I shall try my best.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound pushed themselves up and off of Elliot, reaching around until they found their underwear again. They pulled the briefs back on and let out a quiet breath, gathering their hair to one side and making quick work of braiding it again. They seemed to consider putting their shirt back on before thinking better of it and climbing back into the bed, lying on one side. Elliot reached out and turned the lamp on the bedside table off, leaving them both in darkness. Silence stretched out between them and Elliot felt a sort of discomfort; like he should say something to fill the silence. True to his usual awkward form, he ended up blurting out the first thing that came to mind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Have you ever thought about how weird the L-Star feels to fire?" Bloodhound glanced over their shoulder and raised an eyebrow at Elliot but he continued. "I mean, the bullets don't really go that far when you shoot. What do you think would happen if you fired it straight up into the air? Do you think the bullets would just come right back down?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bloodhound let out a fond laugh and rolled back over, grabbing Elliot's hand to pull his arm around their waist. "Go to sleep, Elliot."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I can't! These questions keep me up at night. I can't believe you've never th-thought about this before," Elliot teased, trying to ignore the way his stomach flip flopped at their fingers laced through his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You are such a strange man," Bloodhound's voice was quiet in the darkness, something soft that Elliot had to strain to hear. "I am glad that we became friends."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Friends. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Realisation dawned on Elliot and he felt his face flush. He had gotten comfortable again. Forgotten that this was all for show. Friends. The word felt like an axe to Elliot's heart. A cold reminder that whatever the hell he was feeling for Bloodhound, they did not feel the same. Bloodhound's breathing evened out in front of Elliot and he stared at the back of their head as they fell asleep, his mind going a million miles an hour. It suddenly felt wrong to be sharing a bed with Bloodhound, pulled close with his arm around their waist. Even worse, they had just </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He kept trying to convince himself it was fine to be this close. Completely okay for them to sleep together. To share this closeness with his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It felt selfish to chase after the feelings that had grown for them. It wasn't fair on anyone. As Elliot lay staring at his best friend as they slept, one thought burnt into his mind.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How long did he think he could keep this up?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hiiiiii......how y'all doin..... i hope u enjoyed reading this chapter! i enjoyed writing this one so much.. trans elliot has my WHOLE heart..  also i could not resist throwing some angst on the end hehe its my brand at this point &gt;:)</p>
<p>come talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> have a wonderful day! &lt;3 :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. please notice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>and baby when you sleep, do you dream of me?</i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Saying goodbye to Evelyn was as hard as it always was. Elliot knew she would forget that he had even visited before the week was out, but he always felt guilt weighing in his chest as he left. Evelyn had pressed a kiss to Bloodhound’s cheek and demanded that they come back sometime soon so she could continue to swap recipes with them and maybe get some help with her knitting. Their cheeks were pink as they smiled back at her, promising to visit as soon as they were able. Elliot watched the both of them as he loaded their bags into the car, a ghost of a smile on his face. When it came his time to say goodbye to Evelyn, maybe he held on a little too tight or a little too long. Even though she lived on the other side of the city, it was still hard to get time out of the Games to visit so he knew it would be a while before he saw her face again. She petted over his hair as he left, laughing as he squaked indignantly at her to not mess it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They left her standing in the doorway, waving goodbye furiously as Elliot drove away. Bloodhound was silent as they sat beside him, not sure what to say. They opted to stay quiet but left a hand on his leg as they drove. It was a comforting weight and Elliot was grateful. The drive to the Legend’s compound seemed quicker than it usually did and Elliot deliberated over not going inside but decided against it at the last minute. He picked up Bloodhound’s bags for them, boasting that he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper </span>
  </em>
  <span>gentleman, and walked them inside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound immediately excused themselves to take their things upstairs, leaving Elliot downstairs with Renee. She had been sitting on one of the couches that stretched across the communal lounge area but disappeared and reappeared by Elliot’s elbow as soon as she saw him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. Give a guy some warning, huh?” Elliot held a hand over his heart. “You always scare the shit out of me when you phase like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s your mom?” Renee asked, ignoring his joke. Her head tilted forward, her eyebrows pulling together in a frown. “Sorry for not properly responding to your text the other night. Nat needed me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a-okay, Ren. Ma’s doin’ just fine. She asked about you a bunch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renee hummed, nodding. “It’s good that she remembers me. I should go visit her sometime,” her eyes zeroed in on Elliot’s neck and she grinned. “Nice hickies, by the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot flushed red and elbowed her. “Shut up. Oh! I did have to explain to ma a few times that you and I aren’t a thing anymore,” Elliot laughed, leaning on Renee. “I think she’s secretly still rooting for us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renee screwed up her nose. “No offense, Ell, gross.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, oh my god, I know. Gross,” Elliot’s hand ruffled through Renee’s hair and she ducked away, glaring at him. “‘Sides, you’re a big ol’ lesbian now so I’m not exactly your type.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That got a laugh out of Renee, which Elliot took a little bit of pride in. She stared him down for a moment, something flashing in her eyes, before she changed subjects. “Where’d Bloodhound go anyway. Thought you two were joined at the hip nowadays.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot laughed nervously, a hand coming up to fix his hair. “Uh, yeah. They’re upstairs I think. Putting their bag away. I don’t know, I’m not their owner. Don’t have to know where they are all the time.” Elliot closed his mouth before he could babble any more nonsense, Renee raising an eyebrow at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Well, I’m gonna be ordering some food if you wanted to stay awhile? We could boot up a shitty horror movie and take bets on how long it takes before Nat hides behind something,” her tone turned soft for a moment. “Could be fun. Haven’t had </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>in a minute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nightmares again?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Memories. Flashbacks. Bad ones,” Renee shrugged a shoulder, waving her hand. “Nothing I can’t handle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You been talking to anyone about it?” When Renee looked guilty, Elliot huffed out a laugh and shook his head at her. “Didn’t think so.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You try explaining to a therapist that the thing keeping you up at night is memories of your past life that are just now filtering through,” Renee blew hair out of her face, her expression stormy. “Anyone I try to explain it to just thinks that I’ve completely lost it. I can’t even begin to talk about the void. Or the voices. It’s too much for them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot pulled what he hoped was a sympathetic face and crossed his arms. “You all set for the Games next week?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Always am,” Renee replied. Her eyes fixed themselves on Elliot again, boring through him. “You cut it a little close coming back home. Figured you would’ve tried to avoid the Games altogether to take some time for you and Hound,” Elliot made a noncommittal noise, avoiding eye contact with her, and Renee’s eyebrows raised. “Trouble in paradise?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing we can’t handle,” Elliot said easily, taking a step back. “Uh, anyway... I should go. Home’s calling my name. Gotta say goodbye first. I’ll see you ‘round, Ren.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He left Renee standing by herself, her eyes questioning as they followed him up the stairs. He made his way down the hall to knock on Bloodhound’s door, shifting from foot to foot outside until he heard them approach. They opened the door, their expression expectant as they saw him. Moving aside, they let Elliot into their room and he stood by the bed with his arms crossed over his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Artur doin’ okay?” Elliot asked. He could see the raven sitting on his usual perch, beady little eyes staring him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is well. Natalie did a wonderful job with him,” Bloodhound chuckled, running their finger across Artur. “I had feared she would spoil him too much.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot watched them with Artur for a moment while he rocked back and forth on his heels. It felt strange to be in their room after what had happened last night; like he wasn’t allowed to be there anymore. He felt like an outsider intruding on their safe space, taking advantage of their willingness to help him after his mouth had gotten him into a stupid situation. Coming to the realisation that he was harbouring real feelings towards them had hit Elliot in the head like a tonne of bricks. Every move he made he felt had to be calculated. He didn’t want to scare them away by confessing his feelings for them like some sort of lovesick freak so he was keeping his mouth shut. With a start, Elliot realised Bloodhound was staring at him as if they had asked a question. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was merely asking if you were planning on staying the night here,” they offered a small smile, head tilted toward their bed. “My bed has room for two if you did not wish to make the drive home at such a late hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot laughed nervously, his hands wringing in front of himself. “I, uh, should probably go. I’ll be f-fine to drive home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded slowly, taking a step forward with their arms slightly raised. Elliot instinctually flinched backwards and Bloodhound froze, looking hurt. Their arms back by their sides, they jerked their head towards the door questioningly.  Elliot felt like the world’s biggest dickhead as he gave them a small wave, walking out the door. Bloodhound stood in the doorway and watched him walk down the hall to the stairs, their expression unreadable as they disappeared from view. Elliot cursed under his breath as he beelined past the communal area. He could hear Renee calling out to him but he ignored her, shouldering out the front door and making his way back to his car. Starting the car up and pulling out the driveway, he let out a shaky breath. The whole drive home, he could not get Bloodhound’s look of hurt out of his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Way to go, asshole. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next week passed with minimal pain. Elliot saw Bloodhound almost every day and they hung out as usual, keeping up the appearance of a relationship, but Elliot tried to keep his distance. He tried in subtle ways, not wanting to give away his feelings and freak out Bloodhound. Surely they would think he was an absolute weirdo; falling in love with your new best friend while pretending to date for the media was probably something that was frowned upon. As the days passed, Elliot considered bringing up the subject of a break up with Bloodhound. End it on mutual terms while he still had his dignity. But somewhere along the line, the story that they had both stayed at his mother’s house got printed and the current running story was that the couple was happy and healthy. To stage a public break up now would do more bad for Bloodhound’s reputation that good. He didn’t want to risk the bad press so he held it together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As fate would have it, the two of them were paired up together for the first Games back. Sponsors were demanding they were placed in a duo. Something about a lack of drama and a want for a romantic storyline in the arena. Elliot knew the press were hungry for a redo of Bloodhound’s first sacrifice to him and it made him feel guilty. The knowledge that none of it was real and that they were simply doing it for the cameras weighed heavy on his chest as the two of them trudged through World’s Edge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound had dropped them far from the action, out by the survey camp. They had made note of the few squads that had landed at the refinery and the singular squad at the epicentre, Mirage trailing behind them. Bloodhound sent Artur out to scout by the mountain lining the back of the arena for any loot as they opened the door of one of the buildings. They disappeared inside and Elliot sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened a supply bin outside the building and grabbed the battery he found, sliding it into his backpack. He raised a finger to his comms piece and cleared his throat. “Hey sweetheart? You need a new magazine for that pistol you got?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their voice crackled back through his ear. “Take it for yourself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunang</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I will not be keeping this weapon for long.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage nodded to himself, slotting the magazine into his Wingman and flicking the pistol around his finger for a moment. He shivered, frowning at the way his breath ghosted in front of his face in the cold air. He had never really liked traversing the colder parts of World’s Edge but Bloodhound always favoured the snowy side of the arena. They had once told Elliot it reminded them of home. The harsh winter temperatures and the powdery snow was so similar to where they had grown up that it gave them a sense of comfort to land there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound appeared by Mirage’s side and called Artur back, checking their holo device for the new ring. “We need to move soon if we wish to make it through the epicentre before the </span>
  <em>
    <span>andskoti </span>
  </em>
  <span>behind us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They gave a little nod towards Elliot that he had come to realise meant they were smiling at him from behind the mask and he gave them a small smile back. They began to lead the way towards epicentre, Artur flying ahead. As they walked, Elliot found himself staring at the back of their head gear. It had been so long since they had been in the Games together that he had almost forgotten what it was like to communicate with Bloodhound while they were masked. He had gotten comfortable with seeing their face bare, nothing covering their expression, so now he was having to readjust to seeing them in their mask. Over the previous months, he had figured out the various head movements and ways they moved to communicate different things with the mask on. But he had once again gotten too secure with them unmasked so being back in the Games with no way to rely on seeing their face was throwing him through a loop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once at the epicentre, Bloodhound split off from Mirage to try to loot a better gun. They had confessed to him once that the God’s rarely favoured their aim with a pistol and he had jokingly offered to give them lessons on how to control the recoil and hit their shots better. They had laughed and told him that he could show them his skills if they were allowed to teach him how to track. The thought of Bloodhound teaching him something they held so close to themselves had once made Elliot’s heart flutter in his chest. The thought now brought a sour taste to his mouth. He watched them walk off into the distance, opening supply crates to find something more familiar to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked toward the main building, sending a decoy strolling to the right for fun. It copied him perfectly and Mirage rolled his eyes, pressing in his holotech to cycle it through some animations. It did a little trick with the Wingman and threw him some finger guns, winking, and Mirage stuck his tongue out at the holo. He sent it off walking again, out towards the city. As he watched it leave, his eyes travelled down to lock onto the snow. Beside the decoy, he could see a line of footprints leading back towards the refinery. He lifted a hand to his ear to alert Bloodhound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mean to alarm you, babe, but I think we might have company.” Before Mirage could say anything more, he heard the distinct sound of someone right behind him, flicking off the safety of their gun. He froze and let out a long breath, bracing himself for the bullet that never came.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why is it so easy to sneak up on you, Witt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage’s nose wrinkled as he heard Bangalore’s voice, slowly turning to face her. “Maybe I let you! Gotta let you win a fight every now and again, huh, Bangs?” he gave her an easy grin and a wink, making her recoil slightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your partner?” Bangalore asked, her pistol jerking towards the epicentre’s main building. “Hiding somewhere like a coward?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anger pooled in the pit of Mirage’s stomach and his words turned venomous. He didn’t like the implication that Bloodhound could do anything cowardly. “I know they’ve got my back. We’re gonna win this whole thing. We got this in the box….or is it the bag? Whatever. You’re not gonna get away with this shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aw...how do you expect to win with both eyes closed and all that outdated tech? That suit looks homemade, rookie. What, your mommy sew it up for you?” Bangalore said, her pistol aimed dead between Elliot’s eyes. His fist clenched by his side and he moved to take a step forward but Bangalore tutted, her grip on the gun tightening. “Yeah, you seem like a real mama’s boy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up.”  Elliot hissed, anger flashing across his face. “You don’t know shit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooh...struck a nerve, did I? Noted.” Bangalore shifted her weight and flicked her gun to the side. “Tell you what, Witt, I’ll give you a head start. Start runnin’ now, maybe you’ll have a chance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just get this over with, Bangs. I got places to be,” Elliot said tightly, glancing behind her. He spotted Bloodhound in the distance, sliding their knife out of the side of Bangalore’s duo partner. A small almost-smile ghosted over Elliot’s face and Bangalore scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell’re you smiling about?” she asked, moving close enough to press the barrel of her gun to his forehead. “Can’t use your little decoys to get out of this one, soldier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A single shot rang out and Bangalore fell to the ground, holding her chest. Bloodhound stood behind her, their own pistol in hand. They dropped it onto the snow and knelt beside her, their other hand holding their hunting knife. They positioned the blade under her ribcage and paused, their head tilting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did no one teach you not to play with your food?” they asked quietly before sliding the knife upwards. Bangalore’s face was one of pure fury as she hit the ground. Bloodhound removed the hunting knife and stood, wiping the blood off against their thigh. “Are you alright, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ást</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine. She just-I just thought about my mom,” Elliot said, staring down at the ground. “Bangs said something and I let it get to me. It was stupid. Thanks for saving my ass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing up whether it was worth pressing the issue or not. They sighed and holstered their blade, offering their hand to Elliot. “The ring is moving. We are not inside.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> ⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several hours later, Mirage found himself with five kills under his belt and a full loadout. The final ring was closing in on the Harvester and he was camping up in the top level with Bloodhound. They had had the advantage of knowing where the ring would be finishing and Bloodhound had led them to the highest level quickly so they could be the first to arrive. As expected, there was little left in terms of loot but all enemy squads had since left the area. No one had been around since the early game. It left the Harvester empty, bar Bloodhound and Mirage. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound was periodically checking the scope on their Triple Take, aimed toward the city. They had fought their way through the fragments of the city with Mirage to make it to the Harvester but with the ring closing in, they were hoping to catch any stragglers rotating in off guard. Mirage had no long ranged weapon so he was leaning against a railing, staring out in the other direction. He had considered swapping out his pistol for something more suitable for across field fights but decided against it in the end. He figured he should leave the sniping to Bloodhound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shot rang out and Mirage jumped, his hand snapping to the pistol in its holster. Bloodhound glanced towards him and then returned their eye to the sight, finger squeezing the trigger once more. “The God's favour my aim today,” they remarked. “Downed a hostile </span>
  <em>
    <span>andskoti</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do we push that? Make sure they don’t reassu-res-uh-res…….get them back up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound shook their head. “We should not surrender our high ground. Let them rise again. Perhaps we can waste what little resources they have left.” They pulled the trigger again and Mirage saw the freshly revived Legend hit the ground once more. He let out a small laugh as he saw their teammate scramble in the distance, trying to get behind cover. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only three other squads,” he reminded them. “Any clue where the other two are?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound sat back , pulling their sniper up. “I believe they will be coming from our right. With the way that the ring has been rotating, it seems unlikely anyone will be arriving from the left. But we must keep our eyes open, just in case,” the eyes of their mask seemed to stare right into Mirage and their head dropped in a tiny nod. “ And if the God’s will it, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>vinna</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage flicked his pistol from hand to hand, watching the duo in the distance make it behind cover. He turned to look over his shoulder, double checking there was no one coming up from behind them. “I gotta be honest with you, sweetheart, it feels kinda open out here,” he pointed out. Bloodhound looked away from their sniper to watch Mirage gesture around. “We could be hit from any side here. I trust your judgement but I just don’t know how to feel about being somewhere this open.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound shouldered their gun and nodded. “I am glad that you pointed that out. I had not realised exactly how exposed we were here. I had forgotten about the side entries.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound held out a hand for Mirage and he took it with uncertainty, allowing them to tug him towards the outskirts of the Harvester. It was closer to the edge of the ring than Mirage would have liked, but at least they had a building with only two entrances. But before he could lead them both inside, Bloodhound let go of his hand to climb their way up onto the roof, setting their Triple Take up against the cover on top. Mirage pulled himself up after them and sat down behind the cover, keeping his eyes glued to the side Bloodhound was aimed away from. They were sitting so close together that he could hear them breathing. It made his heart race just a little bit faster and he pushed that feeling away. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“One squad lies in front of us and one is to our left,” Bloodhound said. Mirage heard the choke on their Triple Take charging up as they followed one squad along, not yet shooting to give away their position. “I believe that the last squad may be alone. They are hiding far too well for my liking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep both eyes out,” Mirage winked, throwing a set of finger guns their way, and he heard a quiet laugh from behind the mask. “We got this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gunshots in the distance caught both of their attention. Mirage could see the fight happening to their left, presumably between the two full duos. He could see one team hurling grenade after grenade into the main area and shuddered to think how that could have been him and Bloodhound if they hadn’t moved. After a second he realised he couldn’t hear any of the grenades exploding and he elbowed Bloodhound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“P..py...pee…...the thing. Wattson’s thing,” Mirage made a noise of frustration and waved his hands in front of him, trying to outline the device. “Python. P-py...something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pylon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes! They have one. I think. Don’t, uh, quote me on that one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound nodded, their head tilting as they listened to the fight. “You are correct. I can hear its crackle from here,” they rested a hand on Mirage’s shoulder for a moment. “Do not doubt your ears, </span>
  <em>
    <span>kærasti</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Have faith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With Bloodhound’s hand on his shoulder, Elliot tried not to cringe away from the contact. They seemed to pick up on his discomfort and their hand twitched away from him, unsure. As the gunfire continued, Bloodhound leant back and started to take potshots at the enemy teams. Mirage sat and watched as they cracked armour, aiming his Wingman every now and again to land a shot. He tried really hard to ignore the tension he had created between them, drowning out his thoughts with gunfire. With a wave of their hand, Bloodhound signalled for Mirage to follow them. The fight was even on both sides and they wanted to come in as a third party to get the upper hand while both squads were distracted. Their sniper now shouldered, they crept forward slowly with Mirage tailing them. They scanned the area ahead and picked up four hostiles, one on the ground. Mirage could see the downed person crawling backwards, trying to move back outside in the hopes of getting themselves back up and healthy to help their teammate. When Mirage aimed down the sights on his Wingman, he saw it was Wattson. She looked scared as she held up her arm, knockdown shield attached and holding steady as the enemy rained bullets on her. Bloodhound disappeared around the corner, in search of her teammate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage fired two shots into the man standing over Wattson, shattering his personal shield and scaring the absolute hell out of him. He jerked to the side, his gun now trained on Mirage as he sent a decoy running forward. The man scoffed and dodged out of the way easily, firing his SMG towards the real Mirage. Several bullets shredded through Mirage’s shoulder as he tried to move, keeping his eyes on the man before him. It was someone he didn’t recognise but he could hear Octane’s familiar cackle from outside. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage flicked his holotech and cloaked himself for a moment, sending a ring of decoys out to distract the man. It bought him enough time to reposition himself behind the man and shoot him. With reflexes faster than Mirage expected, the man whipped around and connected a punch to Mirage’s face, the force knocking Mirage back against a wall. The force of the hit knocked Mirage’s Wingman out of his hand and he balled up his fist, sending back a punch of his own. The man dodged the attack but Mirage predicted his next move, managing to get in a good hit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Watch the face, man,” Mirage said, ducking under his opponent’s fist and jabbing him in the ribs. “Gotta take care of the m-merch-mer-uh-the goods.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With the man stumbling backwards, Mirage lunged for his pistol and spun back around to shoot him in the chest, dropping him to the floor with a choked cry. He looked up at Mirage with a rage, hands scrambling at the blood rushing out of him, and Mirage’s boot connected with his skull. A dull crack resonated around the room and the man collapsed in a heap, dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaning against a wall to catch his breath, Mirage reloaded his pistol and ran the back of his hand across his mouth. He grimaced when his glove came back bloodied. “Shit. Did not expect a fist fight this late in the game.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A low dragging noise caught his attention and he noticed Wattson still in the corner of the room, her cracked knockdown shield pulsing in front of her. She was so close to the door but Mirage stepped in the way. Her eyes were furious as she glared up at him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Merdasse</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Let me go.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you see, I would but I’ve got a game to win,” Mirage aimed the pistol toward her shield and pursed his lips. “Now you better not come back and haunt me. I hate it when that happens…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shot once, twice, and Wattson was dead. Mirage could still hear gunfire outside so he stepped through the door to find Bloodhound. He could see a giant orange dome in the distance, down on ground level. Gibraltar was crouched inside, the glow of a shield battery in his hands catching Mirage’s eye. Bloodhound was across the field, the eyes of their mask shining a fierce red as they sprinted towards Gibraltar. From behind them, Mirage spotted a flash of green. His hand was on his comms piece in half a second. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Behind you, pumpkin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound whipped around, Volt firing, as Octane slid towards them. Mirage started running down the platform towards the fight, not wanting to leave them alone. He aimed his Wingman as he ran, firing off a few shots. He heard one collide with Octane’s shield and he thanked whatever God was watching for helping his aim. When he went to shoot again, he heard the unfortunate click of an empty magazine. He cursed under his breath, mad that he’d forgotten to loot more ammo before helping, but pulled the R301 off of his back. He hadn’t had much practice with the carbine but it would have to do. Bloodhound needed his help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Mirage sprayed the air towards Octane, Bloodhound fired from the opposite side. Between the two of them, Octane stood little chance as he dropped a jump pad in a desperate attempt to get to higher ground and heal his wounds. He hadn’t expected Bloodhound to have a teammate left after all the gun fire. As he soared through the air, his hands catching hold of the second story railing, Bloodhound switched to their sniper with inhuman speed and fired. Octane hit the ground with a thump, stiller than Mirage had ever seen him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, that was h-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A bullet ripped through Mirage’s chest and he stumbled backwards, hands raising to cover the wound. The single projectile had gone right through his personal shield and into his heart, blood bubbling up into his throat. Bloodhound was yelling something at him but the only thing Mirage could think of was the two seconds he had before whoever had shot him with the Kraber had another chance. Bloodhound rushed forward to help him as the seconds went by and another bullet embedded itself in Mirage’s stomach. Bloodhound caught him as he fell, gasping. They quickly threw him over their shoulder and started running for cover. In the distance, Mirage could see Gibraltar. His hand was raised, something clutched between his fingers. Mirage watched through blurred vision as he threw it, the canister turning top over tail until it hit the ground just a few metres from Bloodhound. A loud siren overhead had Mirage shaking in their arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The skies have opened,” Bloodhound muttered, sliding them both under the platform grating surrounding the Harvester buildings. “An airstrike is upon us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound placed Mirage on the grass and started digging through their backpack for a revival syringe, their movements quick. Gibraltar’s defensive bombardment crashed overhead, shaking the buildings, and Elliot flinched as a door was blown from its hinges above them. His hands were gripping the front of his own suit, the yellow fabric now stained a deep red. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He coughed wetly, shuddering as he felt the blood drooling from his mouth. Bloodhound raised their arm to quickly scan ahead, making sure that the coast was clear before they turned back to Elliot, syringe ready. He was shaking too hard for them to get a steady grip. They were talking. He couldn’t hear what they were saying. His ears were ringing. When had the bombardment finished? Where were the enemies? Elliot’s chest hurt. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore, his grip on his suit loosening. He was dying. Oh my God, he was dying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, oh my God, no I’m going to die I’m going to die here I can’t breathe help me help me help-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elliot!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound had him pinned against the grass, their gloved hand cupping his jaw. The bottom half of their mask was hanging around their neck and Elliot noticed the syringe pushed into his chest, bringing the feeling back into his body. His breathing was still fast; his heart still racing. Bloodhound dropped their forehead to Elliot’s, the charms across their mask clinking in such a familiar way. They were still talking but the sound was muffled. Elliot tried to focus his eyes on their lips, recognising words as they spoke. They were telling him to match their breathing. Calm. Everything would be okay. He took in a deep breath, wincing when it pulled at his chest wound that was still slowly stitching itself back together. Bloodhound threw a worried glance over their shoulder as a gunshot went off, making Elliot flinch in their arms. When there was no follow up in the direction, Bloodhound pulled Elliot closer to their body. When his breathing finally evened out, they pressed a phoenix kit into his hands and dropped a round of ammunition into the grass. They apologised. They had to go. They had to fight. Freya did not wish to take him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fólkvangr </span>
  </em>
  <span>today. Stay safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot watched in a daze as Bloodhound slid back out from under the platform, pulling their Volt into their hands. Gunfire continued across the field as the last squads fought. Elliot could see Gibraltar with his gun pointed at something he couldn’t see. He gripped the phoenix kit tight as it pulled together the last of his gunshot wounds, his body tingling all over as he watched Bloodhound start shooting. It was hard for him to keep track of the fight from a distance so he crawled out from under the platform to stumble towards the battle, his Wingman hanging limp in his hand. Black spots curled around the edges of his vision as he squinted, trying to make out the shapes of people fighting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gibraltar hit the ground with a grunt, Bloodhound’s gun finishing him off quickly. They panted above his unmoving body as they scrambled for a battery to recover their shield, one hand scanning in front of them for the last enemy. When nothing came up, they slumped down behind what little cover they had to recover. Even from a distance, Elliot could see they were weakened significantly by the fight. He spotted movement from the other side of the small barricade and before he could warn Bloodhound, he heard the sound of a gun firing once and his partner collided with the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands still shaking, Elliot took a step forward and raised his pistol. He aimed down sights, closed one eye, and fired. The shot landed as the solo loomed over Bloodhound and she stumbled forward. Elliot’s eyes flicked to the Kraber resting on her back and his hand twitched, a cold fear washing over him. She turned around to face Elliot, her hands reaching back for her Kraber. He took a moment to steel himself as she scrambled to aim the .50-Cal sniper toward him and he fired once more. Both of his eyes were closed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fanfare overhead announced that Mirage had won. The last person lay spread across the grass, a single bullet embedded in her forehead. The Kraber was still in her hand, finger curled around the trigger. As Mirage lowered his gun and stared down at Bloodhound, dead on the ground, he couldn’t have felt less like a winner. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> ⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several hours after the Games had ended, Elliot had managed to get away from it all. He had found his way home after avoiding questions from the press and the prying eyes of other Legends. He had done his usual post-win interview, Bloodhound by his side, but he had disappeared as soon as the cameras stopped rolling. He didn’t want to drag it out longer than it needed to be and he wanted to avoid as many questions as possible about his little performance in the arena. It was bad enough he’d almost cost them the game, but now he was going to be known as Elliot ‘I had a panic attack live on interplanetary broadcast’ Witt. The last thing he had seen outside of the World’s Edge stage was Bloodhound, bottom half of their mask hanging by their neck as they searched for him in the crowd. Guilt weighed heavy in his chest as he collected his things from medbay and skirted the demand for a check up. He drove home in silence with his mind going a million miles an hour, his hands shaking as they gripped the steering wheel. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was pacing back and forth in his lounge after the sun had gone down when there was a knock at his door. For a moment he considered not answering but he knew if it were Bloodhound that they would be pissed at him for ignoring them. So he opened the door, almost relieved to see them standing in his doorway. They were wrapped up in several layers yet their face was bare. Elliot stepped aside to let them in without a word and they walked past him, unwrapping the thick scarf from around their neck. They placed it gently on the back of his couch, turning slowly to face him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Elliot was thrown off by the question. He didn’t know what he was expecting from them but it wasn’t concern. When he didn’t respond, instead choosing to stare at them, they looked sad. “In the arena, you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that! No, I’m sorry about that. Just let the nerves get the best of me! Can’t be perfect all the time, you know? Happens to the best of us-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound held up a hand to stop Elliot and his mouth shut so quickly he heard his teeth click. They sighed, their hand coming up to pinch the bridge of their nose. “I do not want to speak with Mirage... only you. You had a panic attack in the arena, Ellie. If you do not wish to talk about what caused it, I do not mind. I just need to know if you are okay because I care about you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound stared at Elliot, annoyance flickering in their eyes for a moment. “You have not been fine. Ever since we visited your mother, you have not been fine. You have become distant and you do not talk to me about how you are feeling. At first I thought that maybe it was an overreaction on my part but I had Renee approach me and ask if everything was okay between us. And truth be told, I did not know how to answer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot picked at the bottom of his shirt anxiously, resuming his pacing up and down his lounge room. He hadn’t expected that they would actually show up at his house and confront him about everything. He thought he would have more time to come up with an excuse or fabricate a lie to explain away his behaviour. He was mad at Renee for saying anything but mostly he was mad at himself for letting anyone notice. He’d dug himself into an even bigger hole than he had originally and that was saying something. He knew he couldn’t tell them that he loved them. They would never talk to him again. They would never trust him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it something that I did?” Bloodhound’s voice was so small, it broke Elliot’s heart. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to face them for a second, his hands balled in fists by his side, before going back to pacing. “No. You didn’t do anything,” his voice was desperate as he tried to claw for anything to say that could fix this. His mouth opened and closed as he struggled to find the words, his mind racing at a million miles an hour. He couldn’t seem to slow his thoughts down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound watched him pacing for a moment, their arms crossing over their chest. “If you won’t talk to me, maybe we should consider calling this off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot froze. “W-what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You clearly do not want to talk to me. This lie that we are telling to millions of people...this...</span>
  <em>
    <span>relationship</span>
  </em>
  <span> we have fabricated. We need to be able to speak freely about how we feel,” Bloodhound’s brow furrowed as they looked away. “I do not feel like this is going to work anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not fair!” Elliot’s words burst out before he could stop them. Bloodhound’s eyes narrowed and their jaw clenched as they turned away from him but he kept talking anyway. “How could you say that? We can’t stop now! The press is finally getting off of my back about my stupid love life and your public image is perfect right now. If we stop now, it’ll ruin everything! You at least owe me this for a little while longer-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound whipped around to face him, shutting Elliot up immediately. “Oh?” they took a step towards Elliot, their expression furious, and he took a step back in defense. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>owe </span>
  </em>
  <span>you? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ég skuldar þér ekkert.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fuck you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come on, you know that’s not what I meant.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed but there was no humour there. It frightened Elliot. “I do not know that. That is exactly the issue, Elliot. You refuse to talk to me anymore and then you act as if nothing has happened. Did you ever consider for even a single moment that I also have feelings? That you needed to consider how I felt about this relationship?” Elliot opened his mouth to respond and they shook their head, rounding on him. They jabbed an accusatory finger at him and he shrunk under their glare, feeling like he was a small child. “For the past week you have ignored me and you have avoided me and you have tried your hardest to make me feel like somehow I am the fool for caring. I let you have your time and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>let </span>
  </em>
  <span>you ignore me because I felt like it was the right thing for me to do. I did not want to push you into talking about what was happening if you were not ready but it has been too long and it has started to affect our relationship. So forgive me for asking you why you have been treating me as though I do not exist when we are supposed to be in this together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hound-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Nr</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I am done,” They sighed in frustration, grabbing their scarf from the back of the couch. “I cannot do this anymore, Elliot. This….whatever </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was...is done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They left Elliot standing in the middle of his lounge, arms slowly wrapping around his body, as they slammed the front door behind themselves. He stared at the closed door, eyes wide. He was such a fucking idiot. Not only had he managed to piss Bloodhound off, he had also managed to get them to break up with him. Even though the entire relationship was fake, it still felt like a knife in his heart. Maybe if he’d just told them that he loved them it would have gone different. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No, who was he kidding? Confessing his feelings would have made it all worse. There was no happy ending to this situation for Elliot. He had gotten himself into the mess with his stupid overactive mouth, it seemed fitting that he tore it to pieces the same way. He let out a quiet sob and let himself sink to his knees, arms still like a vice around his middle. He hunched himself over as he tried to hold in his cries, almost choking on air as his breathing got more erratic. How the hell had he managed to fuck up that badly? His body shook with sobs as he tried to swallow, coughing when he failed. He felt pathetic, almost curled into a fetal position on the floor as he cried. His relationship with Bloodhound, no matter how fake the status was, had been one of the best things to happen to him and he had shattered it. It felt like all the air had disappeared from the room as everything came crashing down on him at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of his phone ringing brought him back to reality.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled the phone from his pocket, eyes blurred over from tears, and he almost declined the call. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t deserve friends. He didn’t deserve the comfort. His finger hovered over the button and his eyes cleared enough for him to make out the caller ID. It was Mara, his mother’s carer, and seeing her name flashing on the screen made his veins run cold. She never called him first. He ran the back of his hand across his face, grimacing when he felt how hot and puffy he had become. He coughed wetly, shaking his head for a moment to try and clear it, before answering the phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah?” he cleared his throat, trying again. “Mara? What happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mara’s voice sounded so sympathetic when she spoke, it made Elliot almost wonder if she knew about what had happened moments ago. But as Elliot processed her words, his world went cold again. “Elliot, honey, I wanted to be the one to call and tell you. We need you to get down to Solace General as soon as you can, love. Evelyn’s leg gave out and she fell down the stairs earlier today. She hit her head real bad and doctors are saying they’re doing everything they can but….Elliot, sweetheart, she’s not gonna make it through the night.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(hides behind cover) sorry for all the angst please don't kill me.... come &amp; yell at me in the comments :p</p><p>as always, u can find me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> &amp; i hope you all have a lovely day &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. cool girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i>how much of a tongue can i bite before we notice blood?</i>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>early upload bc i couldnt stop thinking about it &lt;3 &lt;3 pls enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Six days since his mom died and Elliot had barely left his apartment. Her funeral had come and gone quicker than he had expected. Of course, he had had the help of Renee and Natalie to ensure that everything was well organised and the right people were invited and he had made sure everything had been paid for using his last winnings, but he just thought he would have more time. Time to process. Time to think. Time to do….something. He didn’t know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More people turned up to the service than Elliot had been expecting. A large group of Evelyn’s old work colleagues made an appearance, a few recognising Elliot and a few recognizing </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mirage</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Elliot had tried his absolute best to make small talk with them all. But there was only so much that you could talk about with your newly dead mom’s old work friends that she hadn’t even remembered, let alone talked to him about. A couple of the Legends had arrived to show their support. Ajay had held his hand, Makoa had held him for longer than necessary, and Octavio had offered him a cigarette outside, somehow more awkward than Elliot was with emotion. Elliot had appreciated all of it, even if he was a mess for the entire service. Even Nox shuffled his way into the room, gruffly giving his condolences and letting Elliot know that his mother was a brilliant woman of science. The support from the Legends had been overwhelming enough but the real kick to his chest was seeing Bloodhound sitting at the very back of the room, dressed entirely in black and their face completely covered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot did not approach them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One week and two days since his mom had died and Elliot was sitting in the middle of the living room of her house. Boxes surrounded him, half filled with photo frames and spare balls of yarn, and Elliot sighed. Renee looked up from where she was sitting cross legged on the couch. Elliot met her eyes and she offered a tired smile that he did not return. He hadn’t wanted to be alone to start packing up his mother’s house and she was the only person that he wanted to be around. She had accepted his offer, telling him that she was there if he needed anything at all. Evelyn had been like a mother to her as well so her sudden death had hit Renee hard too. Natalie had offered to come but Renee had convinced her to stay home. She had known that Elliot wanted to be as alone as possible. She knew he wanted to be with someone who understood what he was saying when he couldn’t form the words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot pulled himself to his feet and ran his hands through his hair. He looked around at all the boxes and the overwhelming sense of grief threatened to bubble to the surface. Having to pack away his mother’s memories and her </span>
  <em>
    <span>things</span>
  </em>
  <span>; it was going to break him. Renee stood up beside Elliot and waited for him to speak first. She was never one to start the deep conversations. She knew he would talk in time. She just had to give him time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What am I supposed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Ren?" Elliot said quietly, his voice breaking. "She was my whole world. The games, the money, </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It was all for her. To make sure she was okay. I just wanted her to be okay. I wanted her to have a good life. I couldn’t even get that right."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renee was silent as she stood beside Elliot, her small hand resting on his arm, a comforting weight. She could hear Elliot trying to steady his breathing. He was barely keeping everything inside; she could tell. She moved to stand in front of him with her arms out; an invitation. He all but fell into her embrace, her arms wrapping around him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t stop thinking about her on the floor. Ma didn’t deserve to go out like that. She deserved to live ‘til she was a hundred. She deserved to be a tiny old lady sitting on a porch somewhere, knitting or some shit. She didn’t deserve to die alone on the floor. She-” Elliot’s voice failed him and Renee pulled him closer, her small arms tightening around him. “This fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucks</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dude.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you know what you're gonna do with the house?” Renee sounded unsure about whether she should raise the question and she ran her fingers down his spine in the hopes it would comfort Elliot.  “You don't have to answer that right now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," Elliot's voice was muffled as his face pressed into her shirt. "I'm probably going to end up selling it. I can't live here. I could lease but I-I can’t come back here."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Will you be okay? Selling it, I mean?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I guess I'm going to have to be."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You will make it through this, Ellie. Everyone is going to be there for you during all this. Me especially," Renee's hand came up to card through Elliot's hair gently, a small smile on her face. "I can be there to hold your sweaty little hand through whatever comes."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot laughed, the sound coming out more wrecked than he would have liked. "Thank you." He wriggled in her arms, getting Renee to let him stand back up. "Sorry. You're just so short, my back was starting to hurt down there."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Asshole."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One week and four days since his mom died and Elliot was sitting up on a stool at the bar in the Paradise Lounge. It was the middle of the night but the front doors were closed, the neon light outside turned off. It had been for the past few days. Elliot’s head was in his hands and his eyes were wide, filled to the brim with tears. An unopened bottle of Witt branded whiskey sat before him, the gaudy orange label mocking him. Attached to the neck of the bottle was a yellow ribbon alongside a note from the sponsor that had sent it, giving their condolences. Elliot let out a shuddering breath and gripped the bottle tight, debating whether or not throwing away almost two years of sobriety was the right move. Deciding that it definitely wasn’t and that he also did not give a fuck, he cracked open the top and took a long drink straight from the neck. It burnt his throat as he swallowed and Elliot bit back a sob, wiping at his eyes with his free hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took him the next hour to make it through most of the bottle and Elliot was starting to feel sick. He rested his head against the wood of the bar, breathing harshly through his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel the tracks from his tears drying down his cheeks and he internally rolled his eyes at himself. He knew he must look a mess, his hair uncared for and his clothes wrinkled. He had tried his best to stay isolated from everyone. People asked too many questions. He didn’t want to talk about any of it. Elliot had ruined one of the only good relationships in his life and if that wasn’t bad enough, his fucking mom had died. So no, Elliot Witt was not doing okay. But no, he did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to talk about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking about Bloodhound set Elliot off again. Fresh tears ran hot across his face and he pulled his arms up to rest his head on top of them, folded on the bar. New sobs racked his body as he pictured how differently this all could have been if he just hadn’t been an asshole. Bloodhound would be there by his side, grieving with him. They would brush his hair back out of his face and offer him a small smile. They would tell him that everything would work out in the end. That the end had been decided. All of it was simply part of the God's plan for everyone. He would be allowed to cry into their chest, their arms wrapped around him, and he might feel safe there. But they weren’t there. Elliot’s behaviour had seen to that. He could not stop seeing their face as they had turned to face him, their words harsh and angry as they had fought back. The sound of his front door slamming echoed in his mind as he let out a long breath. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s eyes reopened and he was met with the sight of himself. No, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mirage</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The splash art of his cocky persona across the label filled Elliot with a hot rage and he grabbed the near empty bottle by the neck, throwing it across the bar until it collided with the wall. Glass shattered everywhere on impact, clinking downward onto the floor. The last of the whiskey dripped down the bricks and Elliot curled his lip, watching it pool out across the floorboards. Fuck. He’d have to clean that up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands were shaky as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He sighed as he saw that it was about to die, the little battery icon flashing up red. He squinted down at the screen, his eyes blurry as he tried to find Renee’s number. He could feel the keys to his motorcycle jingling in his pocket as he moved and he almost thought about trying to drive home but had enough common sense scraped together to decide against it. He hit the call button, turning it onto speaker and resting his head back down against his arms. The phone rang so many times that Elliot considered hanging up but Renee eventually picked up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ellie?” Renee’s voice was gravelly with sleep and Elliot winced. “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he dragged the sylablle out, laughing to himself. “I forgot it’s so late. ‘M sorry, Ren, I wouldn’t have c-called but I think….I think I, uh, fucked up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you do?” The concern in her voice ran guilt through Elliot’s body like a cold wave. He could hear Natalie’s sleepy mumbling in the background of the call, followed by Renee reassuring her before returning to Elliot. “Do you need help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot lifted his head up only to smack it back down against his forearm, the sudden movement jolting pain through his forehead. “Y-yeah. I’m at work. No. I’m at the bar. I work there. But not right n….now. Mm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Baby, are you drunk?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot sniffed loudly, blinking back more tears. “It’s been a m-minute since you called me b...baby,” he heard Renee laugh softly and he smiled across at the phone. “’M sorry. I wasn’t going to b-but I just-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to explain anything. I’ll be there in five, okay? Just don’t drink anything else. Can you promise me that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot hummed in agreeance and rubbed his face along his arm, screwing up his nose at how wet his cheeks still were. He hung up the phone and lifted his head up off of his arm. He moved his hands to brace along the bar as he tried to stand, his head swimming. It seemed like the whole room spun as Elliot swayed, eyes wide as he focused on staying upright. He gingerly tried to take a step away from the bar and a wave of nausea hit him like a truck. Holding the back of his hand up to his mouth, he slid down until he was sitting under the bar with his head resting against the stool he had just been sitting at. He tried really hard to not think about the last time the floor had been cleaned at the Lounge and made a weak mental note to make Nikolaj mop next shift. Shit. He’d have to ask them to get the broken glass. He stayed on the floor until Renee showed up, appearing by his side without a sound. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” her voice was quiet as she knelt beside Elliot. “Can you stand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot shook his head minutely, hyper aware of the nausea still coursing through him. “I tried. Tha’s how I ended up down ‘ere,'' his words were slurred as he blinked across at her. Her face was pulled into a sympathetic expression and he hated seeing it. “‘M sorry. This is so stupid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t need to apologise for anything, Elliot. I just want to make sure that you get back home safe,” Elliot whined softly, bumping his head against the stool, and Renee dropped a hand into his hair. “No home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s so quiet there,” he sighed, eyes staring down at the dirty floor. “I never thought I’d miss the f-fucking bird v-vis-visiting but God. It’s so quiet all the time, Ren, I can’t stand it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can stay with Nat and I tonight. Our new place has a spare room,” Renee’s hand carded through Elliot’s hair gently and he leaned into the touch, tears pricking at his eyes again. “It’s not the most decorated room but it’s liveable.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck. I f-forgot you two moved in together,” Elliot said mournfully, looking up at Renee. “I haven’t even visited.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“In case you forgot, you big idiot, you’ve been going through a lot,” Renee smiled sadly at him, her words soft. “I just need to know that next time you’ll call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>before </span>
  </em>
  <span>you drink yourself half to death alone at four in the morning. I care about you, asshole.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot allowed Renee to lift him up off of the bar floor and walk him out the front door, fishing his keys from his pocket as she ushered him out. She made sure the entrance was properly locked before she looped her arm around Elliot’s waist and helped him into her car. He made a low keening sound as she lowered him down into the seat and buckled him in, sounding like an upset child. He rubbed at his wet eyes with a fist as he watched her walk to the other side of the car and climb in. She said something to him but he could barely hear her, his head resting against the window as Renee drove through the city streets. He drifted in and out of sleep, mumbling to himself and watching the lights flash past, until the car stopped completely in her driveway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renee helped him inside and Elliot tried his hardest to keep his eyes open so he could at least see her new house. He got led through a hallway and into the spare room, the only piece of furniture in there being a double bed. Renee quietly explained it was her old bed from living at the compound. They’d taken Natalie’s because it was bigger and more comfortable but this room was so empty because Renee had never really decorated. Elliot simply sat on the comforter, staring down at the carpeted floor as she talked. It seemed like everything was spinning around him. He balled his fists in his lap and sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a quick pulse of light, Renee phased out of the room and quickly returned, this time holding a glass of water and some painkillers in her hands. She offered the two to Elliot and he begrudgingly took them, chasing the painkillers down with the water as he tried not to gag. His head was swimming as he breathed in deep through his nose, trying to keep everything down. Renee knelt in front of him, her hands dancing questioningly around his shirt. He lifted his arms and let her slowly undress him until he was in his boxers, curling up into the pillows on the bed. He didn’t have to feel any embarrassment around her; it was nothing she hadn’t seen before and it’s not like either of them cared.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Renee gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, running her long fingers through Elliot’s fringe. His eyes fluttered closed and he sighed again, feeling heavy. “‘M sorry, Ren.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have nothing to apologise for,” Renee let her fingers pull through his hair gently. She knew it calmed him down. Many nights had been spent like that between them. Those memories seemed so far away to Elliot. “You’ve been dealt some really bad cards, kiddo. Get some sleep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot hummed and let himself drift for a while, lost between the pull of nausea and the gentle tug of fingers through his curls. His head was still spinning from the whiskey and his body felt heavy. He curled into himself as he faded in and out of sleep, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his brain telling him that he was an idiot. That he deserved everything that had happened. At one point, in the midst of his drunken half asleep daze, the hand in his hair had felt so much like Bloodhound’s that he almost jolted awake. The realisation ran cold through his chest as he closed his eyes before they could fill with tears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually Renee slowly stood up and let herself out, closing the door behind herself. Elliot pulled one of the pillows on the bed in front of himself and wrapped his arms around it, holding it close while he rested his cheek against the fabric. Exhaustion crept into his bones and pulled him into a dreamless sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two weeks since his mom died and Elliot was jumping out of the drop ship into World's Edge. He’d been offered a spot on the next roster and something had made him accept it. He’d been saddled with Octane and Pathfinder, which he knew was going to exhaust him, but he didn’t care. He felt reckless. He felt unstoppable. He craved….</span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A sneering voice in the back of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Mirage pointed out he was only competing to die without consequence but he squashed it. It was unimportant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not even an hour into the match and Mirage’s decision making had almost gotten his squad killed. He had dropped them all hot in the middle of the city, itching to get his hands dirty. As always, the City had been a blood bath. The scramble to be the first with a gun had not gone in Mirage’s favour but a solid right hook and a firm kick to the stomach had dropped his opponent. He’d finished them off with their own gun and taken everything from their body before sending a decoy out, running the opposite direction. He could hear gunfire from every direction and his finger flexed on the trigger of his scuffed up Havoc. Through the comms, he heard Octane calling for help and he sighed loudly before jogging towards the pinged location. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found Octane crouched in the corner of a building, cradling a phoenix kit as his metal leg bounced up and down anxiously. “What the hell was this, huh?” the kit flashed up blue and Octane let out a long breath. “I’m all for the early kills, Ell, but give a dude some warning next time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage made a non commital noise, dropping a couple of spare cells beside Octane. “Where’d the robot go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane shrugged, pulling himself to his feet. “Dunno. Last I saw, he was swinging up to the top of those buildings,” he pointed a gloved finger and Mirage pulled a face. He’d seen at least two squads headed that way. “We should probably help the rust bucket, ya?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They set off together towards the set of buildings, trying to get a gauge on Pathfinder’s location. As Mirage stepped forward into the first building, his nose wrinkled as he saw the bodies littered up the stairs. At least two squads had gone down in the stairwell and there was still more fighting happening on the second story. Octane gestured to Mirage to follow him past the scattered bodies and he nodded, his hand tightening on the Havoc he held. As they made it to the top of the stairs, Mirage watched as Pathfinder hit the ground with a loud metallic thud. Octane opened fire, downing one of the enemy squad members while their back was still turned. Mirage sprayed down the last guy before he could even turn around to defend himself. The kills felt cheap but Mirage pushed the feeling aside as he knelt beside Pathfinder, revival syringe in hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Remind me again how these work on you, Path?” he asked, bringing his teammate back from the brink of virtual death. “Feels so weird stabbing a MRVN with this thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hi friends! I appreciate the help!” Pathfinder hopped from foot to foot, yanking a new shield from one of the many bodies littering the room. Octane knelt down on one knee to rifle through the newly abandoned backpacks for ammo stacks. “Landing in the City is so much fun!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Path.You want this?” Mirage shook the Havoc in his direction expectantly. “I don’t have much ammo but I found a good extended mag for it. Might as well give them to someone who knows how to use them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pathfinder swapped his RE-45 for the Havoc, leaving Mirage like he got the shit end of the stick, and did a quick once over the bodies in the room for any attachments. Octane seemed anxious to leave so Mirage followed him back outside. Pathfinder grappled his way up onto the roof and Mirage heard him fumbling around with the survey beacon above, the wires zapping as Pathfinder found the next ring rotation for them. A quick check to the holo map told Mirage they needed to head towards Geyser so he tagged it on the map and started walking. He considered stopping to craft a digital threat scope at one of the stations but thought better of it. Rotation was more important. Octane and Pathfinder trailed behind him, talking animatedly to each other. Mirage was too tired to care what they were talking about. At least until he got dragged into it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me! Mirage! I heard that Bloodhound is the champion for this match!” Pathfinder sounded excited but Mirage’s veins had already iced over. “Did you see their banner! You must have been proud of them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ay, did no one tell you? They’re not together anymore, </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiota</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Octane said quickly, pushing his elbow into Pathfinder’s steel side. “He probably doesn’t want to talk about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh no!” Pathfinder’s screen flashed up with a crying face. “I am sorry to hear that, friend. You must miss them terribly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Yeah, dude, it’s been a while since you’ve come around the complex. Seems like you’re avoiding everyone, not just them, Ell.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Friend, are you sure you would not like to talk about how you are feeling? I have heard that-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna fucking talk about how I’m feeling, Path! </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Elliot whipped around to face his teammates, hands curling into fists by his side. “You guys are no better than the fucking press. It’s all anybody wants to talk to me about. How have I been since the break up? I don’t fucking know, guys, how about my mom died? Does anyone even give a s-shit about her? N-no one wants to know about her, just them. All you assholes care about is my g-goddamn love life. Nothing has changed. Fuck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His teammates were silent as they watched his outburst, Pathfinder’s screen glitching through a few sad emoticons before settling on the one that was just plain crying. Octane’s mask was emotionless as always as he stared at Elliot, his arms folded across his chest and his foot tapping on the ground. He took a couple steps forward until he was up in Elliot’s personal space, his finger jabbing up into Elliot’s face. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Amigo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I know that shit is hurting for you right now but you do not get to blow up on your friends like that. You do not get to take it out on us,” his head cocked to the side and Elliot shifted uncomfortably, feeling like he was under a microscope. “Oh and do not think for a single minute that I do not smell the </span>
  <em>
    <span>cerveza </span>
  </em>
  <span>on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octavio left Elliot standing dumbstruck with his eyes quickly filling with tears, turning on his heel to stalk away. Pathfinder stood by Elliot’s side for a moment before beeping quietly and following after Octavio. Elliot’s chest felt tight as he watched the two of them walking away, most likely back on the path towards the next rotation. He felt the sadness surface level but nothing more. Mostly he was just angry. Angry that he had let his emotions get the better of him in the ring. Angry that he had managed to piss off Octavio and make Pathfinder sad. Angry that he’d been borderline called out for drinking on the job. Angry that any of this was even happening. He pushed the sadness down and let the anger sit on the surface, pulling his face into a scowl as he set off after his teammates. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An hour of walking and they were approaching the Geyser’s back end. Pathfinder had expressed concern about walking through the tunnels this far into the match but Mirage brushed him off. He’d since found a much better gun and his backpack was full of too many grenades for him to really care about being ambushed in the tunnels. One well aimed shot on an overhead cargo bot had scored them a keycard to the locked vault and Mirage wanted the shiny loot inside. The tunnels were dark as the three of them walked through, Pathfinder’s optics glowing bright. Octane absently opened a supply crate along the wall, groaning when there was nothing but low tiered items inside and Mirage rolled his eyes. The keycard felt heavy in his pocket, almost pulling him towards the vault. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage peered through the sight on his Wingman to scope out the open cavern in front of the locked loot vault. When he spotted no one, he walked forward. Beside him, he heard the tell tale hiss of a gas canister being set off and suddenly he was surrounded in the green smog. It filled his lungs, making him hack and cough as he stumbled away from it. Octane and Pathfinder were by his side in an instant, pulling him further away from the canister. Mirage watched the gas rolling out of it, curling along the floor towards them, and he inhaled deep. Pathfinder’s gun was trained on the other entrance to the cavern, his optics flickering in concern. Octane offered Mirage a syringe and he took it quietly, plunging the needle into his forearm through the suit and breathing through his nose as he glared at the canister. It had since ceased, having run out of gas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“D’ya think he’s still here?” Octane asked, shooting out the base of a second canister sitting on the other side of the tunnel. “I love a good fight but, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mierda</span>
  </em>
  <span>, that man plays dirty. Slows me down. No fun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His squad could be waiting in Geyser,” Mirage said. He coughed, the gas residue still settling in his lungs. “I say we t-take the vault and we get out of here as fast as we can.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane nodded quickly and jogged toward the double locked doors across the cavern. Mirage followed, leaving Pathfinder to stand guard in the second tunnel entrance. Mirage took the keycard out of his pocket and swiped, the lock chiming quietly and flashing up green. The doors hissed and swung open, revealing all the loot inside. Mirage spotted a shiny new helmet and a knockdown by the front and snagged it before Octane could, leaning himself back out the vault to throw the two items to a very excited Pathfinder. Octane was shoving his shit into a new backpack when Mirage returned, leaving Mirage to click in the new armour set. It shimmered gold across his body, before fading out of sight. Now feeling a little more secure, Mirage walked out of the vault to join Pathfinder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seen anything?” he asked, peering down the dark tunnel leading towards Geyser. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing has shown itself to me! I would very much like to go and meet some enemies.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage nodded, his hand creeping to the Wingman strapped back onto his thigh. “Tavi?” he called back toward the vault. Octane emerged, a new knockdown clipped to his hip. “You ready to go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He heard a small scoff from Octane. “So it’s Tavi again, huh,” Octane muttered under his breath. He shrugged one shoulder and pushed past Mirage. “Ya. I’m ready to leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Guilt settled heavy in Elliot’s chest again as he sighed and followed, Pathfinder falling into step beside him. They walked together through the dark tunnel, Pathfinder’s optic glowing ever brighter to create a faux flashlight for them, until they hit the other side. Giant steel blast doors waited for them but they had both been pushed open. A frown furrowed Mirage’s forehead as he stepped towards them. He warily kept an eye out for movement in Geyser as he approached, sticking his head through the other side of the doors to check for hidden gas traps. There was one sitting propped against the wall and he could see another by the supply crates across the way. Mirage pulled the pistol from his thigh holster and aimed, shooting out the bases of the two traps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gross. What does the asshole even put in that gas,” Mirage made a face, the phantom ache of Nox’s gas climbing up into his chest. “I would ask him but I feel like he would just kill me, good and proper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pathfinder beeped behind him, his screen flashing a few times. “According to my research, the list of corrosive chemicals includes hydrogen chloride, nitrogen dioxide, sulfur dio-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need a full list, buddy, it’s okay,” Mirage shot a look over his shoulder, making sure Octane hadn’t run off solo. “I’m sure we can have a good ol’ chat about it after we win this game, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure thing, friend! Let’s go and win the championship!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are we gonna do this?” Octane piped up from behind them both, sounding bored. “Caustic has himself holed up in that back building and from what I heard, he’s got Wattson with him. Like hell we can just charge in there, head first. We’d die in seconds like idiots. So we need a plan, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sí</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” Mirage checked the holo device and sighed when he saw there were only 2 other squads left. Where the hell did the match go? It seemed like they were getting shorter and shorter every season. “We could always wait until the other squad pushes and try to third party that...but judging from that look you’re giving me, that is a bad idea. Fuck, I don’t know. What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>brilliant plan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane strolled forward and tugged on the bottom of Mirage’s backpack. The grenades inside rattled and Octane tilted his head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Grenadas</span>
  </em>
  <span>, stupid. You have so many of them,” he pulled his own backpack around and shook it. There was a similar rattle inside. “I also have a bunch tucked away. We throw a couple of these, scare Wattson into dropping a pylon, hopefully the third squad shows themselves, and then we experience the most fun fight the games have ever seen. Plus I’ve been paired with Nat and Nox enough times to know that sometimes she panics and forgets that her pylon still affects his stupid little gas cloud. It always makes him </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>angry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage nodded and Pathfinder gave a thumbs up. Octane tugged a thermite from his backpack and cracked it, pulling back and tossing it in an arc towards the back building. It split in a line across the doorway, eating away at the metal until the door groaned under the pressure, exploding into pieces. Mirage followed suit, unpinning a frag and chucking it towards the newly opened doorway. After a few seconds, there was a small bang and familiar green gas started pouring out the doorway. Mirage grinned, knowing he had set off one of Caustic’s perimeter traps. Stupid asshole would have to set it back up which would cost him valuable time. Pathfinder equipped the zipline gun from his back and shot towards the top of the building, gesturing for his teammates to follow as he clipped his utility belt to the zipline and boosted in. Octane cackled, following after the MVRN with another grenade cracked open in his hand. He threw it in through the open door and Mirage saw his fingers flex into a fist as it deflected and fizzled away. The plan was working. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage clipped himself to the zipline and was with his team in an instant, up on top of the building. Looking down through the glass panes of the roof, he could see movement. Gas traps were sitting beside every entrance to the building’s main section, as well as several electric fences crackling in lines across the room and cutting off access points. They could hear muffled bickering from inside and Mirage spotted the pylon sparking in the centre of the building. Experience fighting with and against Wattson told him that they only had a single minute left until the pylon collapsed. He gestured for Octane to cover the front door and for Pathfinder to make his way towards one of the side entrances. Once his teammates were in their right spots, he steeled himself and dropped down in front of the open door. Wingman in hand, he lined up his shots one by one. Each bullet had to land perfectly, knocking out the bases of the traps before the enemy squad could even react. His breath held, he let the bullets fly and felt his heart begin to race when all of his bullets hit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From the other side of the room, Mirage could see Caustic’s hulking figure lumbering towards the front entrance. The Hemlock in his hands glinted in the fluorescent lights overhead as he raised it and began firing towards Mirage, who dodged to the side to reload his pistol. In the distance, he heard the sound of the two entrances covered by his squadmates being kicked in and gunfire quickly followed. Wattson was to Mirage’s right, on the other side of the wall, and firing a Volt towards Pathfinder. Mirage found himself wondering if Wattson and Caustic even had a third teammate or if they had been left to fend for themselves as a duo. Even without a third teammate, the two of them paired together was nothing to take lightly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage raised a finger to his ear to press in his comms piece, calling out for his squad. “Take this slow. That means you, Octane. We still don’t know where the other team is hidin’ from us. Or how many there are.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Copy that, friend!” came the enthusiastic reply from Pathfinder. Mirage could see him at the back of the building to the left, coming through the hallway into the main room. His gun was raised and ready to shoot. From outside, two shots embedded in the wall beside his steel body and Pathfinder jolted. “Oh no! There is the other squad now!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Several shots were fired from beside Mirage and hit Pathfinder. Wattson had a scowl on her face as she pressed forward, rifle in hand, and emptied a clip. Most of her bullets found their mark and Pathfinder had to drop back behind cover outside of the building. While Wattson was still reloading, Octane aimed his shots and fired. She fell back against the wall, clutching at the front of her jumpsuit as the front bloomed red with blood. There was a snarl from Caustic and Mirage watched as he pulled a familiar gas canister from the front of his suit. Caustic’s fingers flexed around the canister as he stared at Mirage but his eyes flicked to the side, narrowing when he spotted the pylon. Mirage’s face broke out in a cocky grin as he saw Caustic’s expression darken further. With his teammate now down, Caustic disappeared into the right hallway and out of sight. Mirage considered following but footsteps from behind threw him off for a moment. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The noise of Bangalore’s smoke canister cracking open against the floor ran ice through Elliot’s veins. He pressed forward into the building in an attempt to get away from the third party showing up from behind him but he stumbled into one of the leftover gas traps he never noticed in the corner. The base popped and gas poured out, mixing with the smoke and filling Elliot’s lungs. The mixture burnt his chest as he blindly felt his way along the wall to find a way out. He could hear gun fire filling the room but couldn’t see an inch in front of his own face. There was a loud noise from outside but he couldn’t identify it. His head was spinning too much, making Elliot feel dizzy as he slumped upright against the wall. His pistol felt heavy in his hand as he tried to keep his grip steady, hearing the sound of Pathfinder’s metal body hitting the ground. He’d warned his squad about the third party but he never thought they would get there so quickly. He wondered where Octane had gone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s head felt stuffed full of cotton as he collapsed into the next room. The gas slowly eating away at his lungs made him cough loudly, blurring his eyesight. Elliot had a single moment to himself before he remembered Caustic falling back from Elliot’s squads attack into this very room. He had plenty of time to set up several gas traps, lining the wall. Several popped open with a dull hiss and Elliot’s legs gave up as gas poured forward. He could make out Caustic’s form near the door, blocking the only available exit. A low chuckle from Caustic filled Elliot with fear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So much for your big heroic win, Witt,” Caustic’s voice sounded far away as Elliot watched him drop his gas canister to the floor. Out of range of the pylon in the next room, it clinked against the metal and beeped once. As dark green clouds started pouring out and swirling around the room, Caustic knelt down in front of Elliot. He ran his gloved hand through Elliot’s hair, yanking his head up for their eyes to meet. “This is for posterity, so be honest; how do you feel?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you.” Elliot spat back, his lungs burning in his chest. He was finding it difficult to breathe through the harsh chemicals filling the room and his head was starting to hurt from Caustic’s grip on his hair. This was not going according to plan. He didn’t want to die here, on his knees in front of Nox with acid slowly eating away at all of his internal organs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Caustic laughed, the noise coming out muffled through his gas mask. “Interesting,” he yanked upwards harder on Elliot’s hair, pulling a pained hiss from the man beneath him. “Perhaps I will have to think of something else to make you t-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small body collided with Caustic’s side and sent him flying into the wall with a loud grunt. Elliot hit the ground as Octane wrestled with Caustic in front of him. The fight was fair for a moment while Caustic was caught off guard but his advantage in size gave him the upper hand quicker than Octane would have liked. Several punches landed on Octane and the smaller man tried to dodge out of the way of a heavy kick that followed. He was only semi-successful; Caustic’s foot colliding with his shin instead of his stomach. The sheer force crumpled Octane’s steel leg inwards and Caustic surged forward. The two of them rolled and Caustic ended up on top of Octane, his knee pressed into his spine to keep him pinned on the floor. His eyes were flashing with rage as he reached for the gun strapped to his back but Mirage was back on his feet, the barrel of his Wingman against Caustic’s head. His eyes closed as he pulled the trigger and Caustic collapsed on top of Octane.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ay, get this idiot off of me,” Octane wheezed, pushing at the freshly dead body on top of him. “Shit, Ellie, I thought you were dead for a second there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage coughed so hard that he stumbled backwards, bile threatening to rise in his throat, and he made a disgusted face. The gas in the room had since faded, leaving the air clean to breathe, but he still felt the effects. “Fuck. I almost was,” he helped Octane drag Caustic’s body to the side and Octane tried to stand, leaning against the wall as he inspected the damage to his prosthetic. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anytime, brother,” he let out a long breath, staring down at his bent leg. “This is... not ideal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you walk?” Mirage asked. He pulled a med syringe from his backpack and pressed it into his arm, sighing. He could still hear gunfire outside and he remembered the self-revival syringe he had tossed to Pathfinder inside the vault. It meant the MVRN was back up and out there, trying to hold off the last squad. “Even if you can like, limp or s-something. We’re so close to winning this, Tavi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Octane bent over and pulled at the steel for a moment, trying to push it back the other way. He gingerly placed it down on the ground and tested his balance, shrugging when he wobbled. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Esto está bien</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not entirely convinced but knowing there was no way to stop Octane, Mirage followed his limping teammate through the side door and back out into the fray. Pathfinder was up on the roof, shooting at the two figures at the other end of the building. Mirage couldn’t make out who they were without his glasses but he knew one had to be Bangalore. As the two of them climbed up to help, Pathfinder took several bullets to the chest plate and stumbled backwards. Octane rushed for his hand as he fell off the roof but missed, their fingers barely brushing. Mirage was aiming down the sight on his Wingman in an instant, firing off shots towards the enemy team as they pushed forward. They knew that Pathfinder was down and any idiot with eyes could see the unnatural bend in Octane’s leg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bangalore’s smoke exploded at their feet as she lobbed canisters their way. Mirage’s nose scrunched as he blinked through the haze, mad that he hadn’t gone through with crafting that digital threat scope when they were back in the City. Footsteps banged against the roof, approaching fast, and he squinted through the smoke. He fired into the haze and mentally patted himself on the back when he heard someone’s shield break. Beside him, Octane was shooting into the smoke with more purpose than Mirage and he spotted the scope attached to the R99 in the man’s hands. Good. At least one of them could see. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bangalore emerged from the smoke cloud and Mirage jolted back when he saw the fully charged Peacekeeper shotgun in her hands. One eye closed as she scoped in, Bangalore shattered Octane’s shield. Before Octane could reload his R99, she had recocked the shotgun and fired again. The shot blasted through his chest and Octane tripped backwards with a cut off yell. Mirage’s Wingman miraculously landed all of its bullets and knocked Bangalore back. As Octane hit the glass paned roof, Mirage tracked Bangalore’s injured movements through the smoke as she tried to fall back and heal up out of sight. She charged a shot through her Peacekeeper that knocked Mirage off balance but the last bullet in his chamber collided with her collarbone. Blood pooling between broken armour, she disappeared off the side of the roof and was still. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage steadied himself, waiting for Bangalore’s teammate to show themselves. They had been below, finishing off both of his teammates as they fell, so Mirage knew that it was truly only the two of them left. His breathing got heavy as he heard the telltale tap tap of boots against the rooftop. A familiar click paired with a warm orange glow washing through the smoke, two red lights staring at him, and Elliot stopped breathing. His grip on the Wingman loosened as the smoke clouds cleared and they stepped out into view. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bloodhound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s split second hesitation earned him a bullet to the chest and the last thing he saw before he hit the glass pane below was Bloodhound turning away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> ⁝</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took Elliot close to two hours before he was allowed out of med bay and away from Octavio. Rightfully, he was furious. The final kill of the game was already all over social media, headlines pouring forward about Elliot’s hesitation and how it had cost them the whole championship. Elliot sat on the cot in medbay for almost the full two hours, his eyes unfocused with a member of med staff checking over his lasting injuries, as Octavio yelled at him. He knew that he had cost them the championship. He knew that he should have taken the shot. He should have known it was coming. He should have prepared himself better. Octavio had every right to be angry at him. Pathfinder had sat in the corner of the room, his legs folded underneath him and his screen sad. He didn’t really understand why Octavio was mad but he did understand that Elliot had lost them the championship. But Elliot had a feeling Pathfinder cared less about the championship and more about his friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After Elliot had been cleared for release, he had pushed past Octavio and grabbed his bag. He didn’t want to stick around and listen to the man talk his ear off for another hour about how he had let the squad down. He was already dealing with his own voice in his head berating him; he didn’t need to hear it from an outside source. He left Octavio calling after him as he made his way down the hall and out the front door. The second he was out of the med bay, the media swarmed him. Camera flashes and clicks set off his anxiety as he pushed his way through the crowd, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. His mouth set in a hard line and his eyes threatening to fill with tears, Elliot dodged every question hurled his way from the hundreds of journalists and blog writers asking about Bloodhound until he could reach the private Legends parking garage. Once inside, he made his way to his motorbike and set off towards his house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he drove a little over the speed limit. Maybe he ran a light or two. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t care anymore</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed through the entrance to his place and dropped his bag by the door, kicking it shut behind himself. Rubbing at his tired eyes, Elliot pulled his holo suit down and tied the arms around his waist before collapsing onto his sofa and curling into a ball. He couldn’t be bothered taking his holo suit off completely, but he did remove and throw his goggles across the room. They hit the wall and Elliot swore he could see a crack spidering up the side of the lenses but he tried hard not to think about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lay there on the sofa until the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the sunlight slowly oozing from the room and leaving Elliot to wallow in the darkness. His eyes felt dry as he stared at the wall. It seemed strange to Elliot that all he wanted to do was cry and yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His chest was tight and his arms were wrapped around himself, wanting nothing more than to scream and cry like a child. He just felt empty. He missed his mom. He missed Bloodhound. He felt lost and he didn’t know what to do. He was so used to screwing up small shit but now that he had ruined all of the good things in his life, it left him feeling like a hollow shell. Elliot knew that by morning, every paper across Solas would be plastered with his name but it would be nothing like the usual headlines he earned. This time it would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elliot</span>
  </em>
  <span>, not Mirage. It would show uncertainty. It would show hesitation. Something akin to weakness. And once again, he had managed to drag Bloodhound back into the spotlight on account of his own recklessness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s sigh was ragged as he pulled himself into a seated position. A quick glance to the clock on the wall told him he had been lying on the sofa throwing a private pity party for hours. His stomach grumbled and his lip curled. He didn’t want to eat anything. He wanted a </span>
  <em>
    <span>drink</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He needed sleep. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A gentle knock at Elliot’s front door startled him out of his spiralling thoughts. His brows pulled into a frown as he slowly stood up. He considered not answering but he knew if it was Renee that she would kick his door in. She had done it once before and Elliot didn’t really feel like shelling out the money to replace it again so he found himself walking over, dragging a hand down his face tiredly. One hand on the door handle and he opened it quickly, his other hand rubbing over his eye.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ren, I don’t really feel like talking right now so if we could-” Elliot’s eyes cleared and he could finally make out the figure standing on his front doorstep. His heart felt like it leapt up into his throat and his voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Bloodhound?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ehehe i left it on another cliffhanger im so sorry...also we are so close to the end! two more chapters! home stretch, baby!</p><p>sidenote thank u to evryone leavin comments n kudos it brightens my whole day to see people liking my writing ;_; ! i try my best to reply to all comments as well &lt;3 </p><p>come talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> ive also got a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2FKOTqghlvnJItRVY5Yah5?si=OLtAyauZSjyqa3gVSFIxcQ">playlist</a> for the fic if anyone is interested lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. the good in me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> your heart’s a vine that I’ve bled trying to climb; yeah, you’re making a ruin of me </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Bloodhound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood in his doorway, somehow still in their gear from the games. Their hands were in fists by their sides and Elliot could tell that they wanted to be anywhere but here. He took a step back, unsure of how to proceed. Neither wanted to be the first to speak. It had been almost two weeks in silence for them both. It had been heart wrenching for Elliot to go from talking to Bloodhound every single day to not even looking their way when they walked past him. Their angry words were echoing in his mind and he almost moved to speak; maybe even to apologise. But something in him held back. He wasn’t emotionally ready to deal with the repercussions if Bloodhound didn’t want his apology so he kept his mouth shut. They had every right to be angry at him but Elliot did not want to fight with them again. The silence stretched out between the two of them until eventually Bloodhound sighed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Halló</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” their voice was small. Uncertain. He had not expected nerves from them. It wasn’t like them at all. At the very least, Elliot had expected some sort of anger. Maybe resentment. Not uncertainty. “May I come in?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot nodded quickly, moving out of the doorway to let them through. They walked past, making sure to keep enough distance to not brush up against him, and made their way to the centre of his living room. Elliot closed the door but didn’t move from where he stood. He watched Bloodhound as they crossed their arms over their chest and rolled their shoulders, looking around the room. Everything about the way that they moved began to make Elliot feel like he was keeping them hostage in his apartment. After a moment, they hooked a hand under their mask and pulled it off. Their hair came cascading out and over their shoulders, threaded into its usual braids. Elliot felt a flash of homesickness. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see that you were also unable to change out of your suit,” they said. Elliot blinked, confused. “Truth be told, I had every intention of going home and staying there tonight but something drew me here. I spent hours pacing my room before I decided to walk to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You walked h-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry about your mother. She deserved to live many more years,” Bloodhound looked sad as they stared at Elliot from across the room. He was suddenly reminded of them sitting up the back of his mother’s funeral service. They had been by themselves the whole time. They hadn’t even looked at him. “When I learnt of her passing, I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here.” Elliot’s bluntness seemed to startle them somewhat. Like they hadn’t expected him to ask so soon. As if they had expected to get away with more polite conversation. Their head tilted to the side as they considered him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You hesitated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Irritation flashed up in Elliot and he narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, the press is gonna have an absolute field day with that one,” his words were angry again. He honestly didn’t mean to start snapping at Bloodhound but what did it matter anymore? He knew he had fucked up any chance of them ever liking him again. No point in being polite. “You here to gloat? Rub some salt in the wound?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound reared back slightly, their expression shifting to anger in an instant. “Is that the sort of person you believe me to be?” they asked, their tone biting. “There was no honour in today’s victory.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gee, thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You misunderstand me. It was I who did not have any honour. I took advantage of your hesitation. A real </span>
  <em>
    <span>bardagamaður </span>
  </em>
  <span>would have given you a chance to fight back,” they sighed, looking away. Their fingers were threaded through the ends of a braid, tugging. Elliot recognized the movements from when they were trying to find the right words to say. It was nervous behaviour. “I saw your indecision and fired without thought.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t know why you’re here, Hound. Last I heard from everyone, you wanted ab-absol...nothing to do with me,” Elliot was shifting from side to side. That was his own nervous behaviour. He wanted to move the conversation along so he could go back to wallowing in his own self pity, away from prying eyes. The last person he needed to be in his space was Bloodhound; the one who was somehow always on his mind even after all this time. “So I-I’m gonna ask you again. Why are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to know why.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why you hesitated,” Bloodhound took a step forward and Elliot took one back to match. Their eyes seemed to pierce right through him, threatening to tear down all of his protective walls. They knew he was prone to deflecting. They knew he didn’t like talking about his feelings. They knew so much about him that it hurt. “Why you hesitated when you saw me in the arena. Why you have not visited the Legend’s complex. Why you said all of those things to me. I simply wish to know why. Why any of this happened. For a while, we were doing so well. Everything was going according to your plan and then something changed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot let out a panicked laugh, both of his hands rising to run through his hair as he felt the anxiety begin to bubble in his chest. Of all of the days for Bloodhound to demand explanation, of course it had to be now. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to sort through his new bout of emotions after facing Bloodhound in the arena by himself, let alone having to talk through his feelings with someone else. “I can’t tell you that,” his head shook from side to side, tears beginning to prick behind his eyes as he watched Bloodhound. “I-I-I can’t. That’s just- I’m not going to- I just can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound took another step forward and yet again, Elliot parroted backwards. This time, he felt his back hit the wall. “Why?” they asked again, insistent. “Why can you not speak to me anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Hound, I just can’t, okay?” Elliot felt cornered as Bloodhound walked forward until they were right in front of him. The familiarity of their closeness washed over him but it was laced with grief, a painful thorn sitting under the surface. He knew they were not there to comfort him. They were not dating anymore. Elliot had seen to that. They hadn’t even been dating in the first place. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “I can’t talk about it. You wouldn’t understand.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try me,” their tone was angry, their eyes fiery. Elliot felt his guilt washing over him as he saw history repeating itself right there in his own living room. He felt truly doomed to get stuck back in this scene with Bloodhound. Their arms unfolded as they raised a hand to rub at their eyes. It was a nervous tic they had definitely picked up from Elliot and it pulled at his heart to watch them doing it. “I cannot understand what you do not tell me. Help me to understand how you are feeling.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to talk about it! I didn’t want to talk about it before and I don’t want to talk about it now! There is too much going on for me to even try and fucking explain how I am feeling right now and to be c-comp-completely honest with you, we haven’t exactly been close lately. So I don’t really want to talk to you about any of it,” Elliot’s breathing was speeding up as he rambled, his hands balling into fists by his sides as tensions rose. Elliot could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>himself rambling but once he started, it was hard to stop. He wanted Bloodhound to stop looking at him as though he was a scared and injured animal they could come along and rescue. Like he was something that needed to be approached with some form of caution. “You left. I fucked up and you left. You didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. But now you’re back and you’re asking me s-s-so many questions I just c-can’t answer. You should have ju-just stayed gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I believe that I at least deserve an explanation for the way that I was treated. You still have not told me anything about why you turned cold towards me so suddenly. Was it something that I did wrong? Perhaps something that I said out of line? I do not know what I have done to wrong you, Elliot. Why can you not tell me what I have d-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I love you, okay!” Elliot shouted, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Bloodhound jerked back from where they had almost been nose to nose with Elliot, stunned into silence. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hound. Is that what you wanted? I fucked around and I fell in love with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot’s legs buckled slowly under him and he slid to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He hadn't meant to tell them that. He had been backed into the wall, in all sense of the phrase, and he had snapped. Bloodhound stood unmoving before him, their eyes boring a hole into a spot on the wall beside his head. Elliot let his eyes drift away from them. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to look at them. He knew that they must hate him even more now. Of course, they had every right to hate him after all. They had been dragged out of the comfort of anonymity and into the spotlight, into a fake relationship that they hadn’t even come up with in the first place. He had kept them there, lying to their friends and to the press, until it had become too much for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. His eyes squeezed shut tight as he remembered the words that he had thrown at them without a care in the world on that first day. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As hard as it’s gonna be, you can’t fall in love with me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stupid. He had been so confident in himself that he had made them promise that they wouldn’t fall in love with him. He had never even considered that he would be the one to fall for them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It hadn’t even been on his radar when they started this whole shenanigan. But sure enough, the more time he spent getting to know them, they had slowly filled every thought in his head, every daydream he had while he was supposed to be concentrating at work or in the arena. Thinking about what it would be like for them to truly date him or to hold his hand for real or for them to feel every ounce of love he couldn't help but pour into each publicity kiss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he’d gone and fucked it all up. He had acknowledged the feelings that had been growing and that had made it real and he backed away like he always did. He had a bad habit of pulling away the second that things got real and Bloodhound had been no exception to the rule. It didn’t feel fair on Bloodhound for him to keep going along with the lie when it had become something so real to him so he had started to distance himself. Thinking back, he knew it hadn’t been okay for him to do that without telling Bloodhound that they hadn’t done anything wrong. He had never considered that they would think that they had made him uncomfortable in some way or overstepped a boundary they did not know about. But now, sitting on the ground in front of them, he knew that they had been far more affected by his distance than they had let on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound made a sound that sounded like it might have been a laugh. No, maybe it was a sob. Elliot could not tell; his chest felt like it was going to cave in. They fell down on their knees in front of Elliot and his eyes opened so he could look up at them in shock, those incriminating tears starting to roll down his cheeks. Their expression was unreadable as they knelt in front of Elliot, their hands balled into fists on their thighs. They were still staring at the wall beside him, rather than looking at him directly. Elliot sniffled, running the holo suit’s sleeve across his nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...I don’t know if what I’m feeling really is love but I do know that I can’t stop thinking about you. And I’ve tried,” Elliot laughed humorlessly, dragging his hand down his freshly tear stained face. “Fuck, I tried. But it always comes back to one thing. It’s always you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s breathing hitched at his words and Elliot stared at them for a moment longer, desperately waiting for them to respond. Their gaze was still stuck firmly anywhere but Elliot’s face and it tore his heart in two. Bloodhound’s breathing became uneven as Elliot bit back even more tears. He caught the minute way their head jerked to the side, as if they were trying to dislodge a thought. The agony of waiting was beginning to creep up on Elliot. He could barely stand their silence any longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“God, Hound, p-please. C-can you at least look at me? Or say something,” Elliot pleaded, his eyes stinging. “Anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you mean it?” their voice was hushed, their eyes still blown wide and avoiding his own. “When you say you think that you love me, do you mean it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t be making this much of a scene if I was lying,” Elliot said, sniffling once again. “And I know that you probably hate me even more now but I-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound held up a hand to silence Elliot and he shut up immediately. He waited as they sat there, almost as still as a statue and their breathing almost nonexistent, before they laughed. And before Elliot’s resurgence of shame and anger could let him start yelling, they spoke again. “You, Elliot Witt, are a fool,” their gaze snapped up to meet his and Elliot's eyes widened in shock. “I love you. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>loved you. I did not know what to do about it for a long time and I did not know if it was something that I should have brought up with you. You looked so happy when everything was going to plan and I did not want to take that away from you. You had always seemed content to remain friends through all of this. But then you started to get distant. You moved away from my touch and you avoided looking towards me unless it was necessary. For so long I have been so worried that I overstepped somewhere and showed you my true feelings and that I had frightened you away from me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“How long have you-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I first began to realise the moment that you offered to sleep on your mother’s couch instead of simply sharing a bed with me because you wished to be respectful. But I am sure that my feelings had begun to develop some time before that,” Bloodhound let out a long breath and tears began to fall. “When we slept together and you started to distance yourself from me, I had worried I had done something wrong. That I had crossed an unspoken boundary. I did not realise that you had the very same feelings I have for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry that you felt like it was all your fault. None of this was ever your fault,” Elliot almost moved his hands out and towards Bloodhound but thought better of it, still unsure if they would want to be touched by him. They had finally looked at him, their own eyes teary as they knelt before him, and Elliot’s heart ached for them. “All of this really could have been avoided if I had just stopped being an idiot and talked about my emotions for once. I got scared. And I did what I do best when I’m scared. I ran away. I hid like a coward when I should have been screaming from the rooftops that you are one of the only people that has ever made me feel as comfortable and respected and cared for as you do. I am so sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was a lot of words, Elliot,” Bloodhound wiped at their eyes and let out a shaky breath, Elliot gasping out a wrecked laugh at their words. “I am truly sorry for the way that I snapped at you that night. I should not have pushed you so hard for an answer but I truly felt it was the only way that you would tell me anything. But perhaps I pushed too far…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to apologise for anything. I acted like a-a-a…com-complete asshole to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I left you there, all alone, and you were told that your mother had passed. I should have stayed. I should not have left you in this house alone. Perhaps things could have been different if I had stayed and tried to talk to you further.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot shook his head quickly, his hands balling into fists on his thighs. “Hound, there is no way you could have known that I was gonna get that call. Don’t put that on yourself. I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you in the first place. You were only standing up for yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound looked sad as they bit their lip, their hands wringing in their lap until they settled on top of their thighs. It hurt Elliot to see them so visibly anxious and so unsure of what to say to make it better. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry to hear about your mother, Ellie. I know how much she means to you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The familiar nickname pulled at Elliot’s heart and he sucked in a breath, fresh tears sticking behind his eyes. His cheeks hadn’t even fully dried from the last ones. Bloodhound’s hands continued kneading along their thighs so Elliot threw all of his worry to the winds and held out his hands for them. Bloodhound made a quiet noise and instantly fell forward into his arms, as though they had simply been waiting for his permission to do so. Their face pressed into his shirt and his arms wrapped around them fast, pulling them in tight. They sat like that for a while, Bloodhound all but sitting in Elliot’s lap whilst being held as close as possible without hurting them. Elliot’s fingers were up running through their hair and his eyes were squeezed closed as though he might wake up from this dream if he opened them too quickly. Their breathing was uneven against him as they fought against tears. After a while, they pulled back slightly and looked up at Elliot, their nose almost close enough to touch his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not know where to go from here,” they said quietly. Elliot’s hand stilled in their hair. “I do not know what this means for us.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot thought for a moment before choosing his words as carefully as he could with his mind still reeling from everything that had happened so far. “We could always t-try to do it again. The right way this time,” Elliot pressed the tip of his nose against Bloodhound’s, a small fond smile growing on his face. “I could try taking you on a real date. Like real people do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound smiled and hid their face back in his shirt. “I think I would like that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll have to tell everyone that we’ve made up. I don’t think we can ever tell anyone that this started off as a publicity stunt that only happened because I’m a fucking idiot who can’t keep his mouth shut,” Elliot sighed and resumed running his fingers through Bloodhound’s hair. They sighed contentedly and shuffled closer once more. Their weight against his chest was grounding and he pulled them further in until they were sitting in his lap. “Can you imagine the absolute field day the press would have with that? They’d never trust us again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound let out a quiet laugh and reached up to place a hand along Elliot’s jaw. “Do not think of them tonight. It is not worth it. This is something we can discuss tomorrow. For now, I think I would like to kiss you once more if that is alright with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot looked down at them in surprise, meeting their eyes, before nodding quickly. With another smile, Bloodhound leant up and pressed their lips against his. Elliot relaxed into the kiss, bending himself down to meet them halfway. His hand moved from their hair to rest over their own, still placed along his jaw, and his thumb rubbed a gentle circle over their hand as they kissed. After they parted, their forehead rested against his and they pressed another quick kiss to his lips. The familiarity of their closeness brought a new warmth to Elliot’s chest, knowing that it was all genuine. Knowing that it had always been genuine; he had just been too stupid and hot headed to see it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you don’t hate me,” Elliot said. “I was worried you’d never want to talk to me ever again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound hummed, turning their face slightly to kiss his palm. “Quite the opposite, </span>
  <em>
    <span>krúttið mitt</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Though I suppose this does give me something to use the next time you do not wish to talk about your feelings,” they gave him a grin and Elliot made a face in return. “See what happens when you talk about how you are feeling. You might get a kiss or two.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I swear, if you use this as ammunition against me in the future…” Elliot groaned, his tone grumpy but his smile giving his real emotions away. “Speaking of the future, what are you doing tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not believe I have any plans...why?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just wanna take you on a date. A real one,” Elliot’s face fell for a moment and he bit his lip, thinking. Bloodhound waited for him to speak, patient as ever. Elliot looked worried again as he stared down at them, a million thoughts so clearly turning in his head. “I’m a little bit fucked up. I just want you to know that before you start...properly dating me. If you did want to properly date me. I just f-figured I should let you know. Some p-people have said I’m like, a lot to deal with sometimes so I-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Elliot, I love you. This is all that matters to me. You will never be too much for me,” Bloodhound leant back against Elliot’s chest and sighed. “And you forget, I have dated you once before. It was a lot of fun. I think I would like to try once again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You make an excel-e-ecks…..</span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You make a good point,” Elliot held out his hand for Bloodhound. They took it and pressed a gentle kiss to the back, their expression soft as they watched him. “I think I would like to try again too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound gave Elliot’s hand a squeeze and let go, sighing. “I believe we should consider having a shower soon, my love. I do not wish to ruin the mood but I do not think either of us have bathed since the Games and it would be wise to do so soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot huffed out a laugh, leaning his chin against the top of Bloodhound’s head and wrapping his arms back around them. The two of them were content to sit there for a while, enveloped in each other’s embrace, until one of them decided it was time to move and head towards the bathroom for the shower. Elliot felt more at ease than he had in weeks with his cheek pressed into Bloodhound’s hair and his fingers lacing through theirs. He felt at home with them as they led him to the shower, helping him take off the rest of his holo suit. His heart was racing in his chest as they pressed themselves against him under the hot spray of water but for the first time in a while, it was not a product of anxiety. It was anticipation. It was excitement. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OOOUUHHH ...... LAST OFFICIAL CHAPTER... all that's left is a lil epilogue that I'll end up posting in the next few days ..... this chapter HURT to write they are such IDIOTS but oh my godddd ....... I hope u all enjoy it !! </p><p>pls come talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> there's also a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2FKOTqghlvnJItRVY5Yah5?si=OLtAyauZSjyqa3gVSFIxcQ">playlist</a> for the fic if anyone wants to listen &lt;3 it has all the songs that the chapters are named after + some extras</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. pink in the night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <i> &amp; I know I've kissed you before but I didn't do it right; can I try again try again try again try again and again and again </i>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It had been a few hours since Mirage’s squad had gone down, somewhere on the outskirts of Lava City. It had come as a surprise to him when he hadn’t been forced into Bloodhound’s squad by the gamemakers, let alone been put with two people he had never even met before. It had been six months of nothing but the two of them being paired together and the ratings had been higher than ever so for him to be suddenly saddled with two rookies he didn’t even know felt strange. The synergy in the squad was completely off and the two of them had ended up running off and going down in a really inconvenient spot for Mirage to pick up their banners. He had tried his best and hung around for as long as possible while the respawn timer on his teammates ticked down but the squad on top of their banners refused to budge until the devices had gone grey. Frustration had flashed through Mirage as he thought about how easy it would have been for them to get close to the winner’s circle if they had just stuck together but his teammates had other plans obviously. It left him flying solo for the rest of the games; something he always dreaded. He knew that he at least had his decoys with him but they didn’t really make for very engaging conversation. Something to consider when he next tweaked their design.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mirage adjusted his grip on his rifle and pressed forward, a shiny vault key burning a hole in his pocket. It had been a risk to shoot it down but he figured he was far enough away from the squad his team had gone down to. He’d grabbed the key and the battery that the loot tick had dropped and started running. His holo map told him the closest vault was between Lava City and the Sorting Factory so he was headed in that direction. The tunnels that twisted through the mountain were filling him with an anxiety but he pushed it aside, pulling his goggles up to his forehead. No one ever went through the mountain to rotate unless they had a key to the vault and he hadn’t heard any recent shots so there was absolutely nothing to worry about. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The supply crates dotted along the tunnel walls remained closed which was a positive sign for Mirage’s life continuing. He crept forward, rifle in hand, as he approached the turn before the locked vault. Before making the final turn, he sent a decoy out towards the opposite tunnel opening in case anyone was coming. When it remained un-shot at, Mirage pulled the vault key from one of his many pouches and scanned it. The door lock flashed once, twice, and then the double doors slid open. Mirage slipped inside and beelined for the personal shield propped up against the back wall. Once he’d slid the shield over himself, he surveyed the vault for anything else of use. Most of the loot across the tables were attachments for snipers and he found himself sighing. He rarely touched snipers so besides the new shield, the risky endeavour had barely seemed worth it. He shoved a phoenix kit into his backpack and headed back towards the vault’s entrance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He barely managed to bite back an ear splitting scream when he collided with a figure standing in the doorway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Halló</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Mirage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound had Mirage pinned against the wall of the vault in less than a second, their hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pressing his face into the cold steel. He could feel the sharp edge of their handaxe pressing into his back from their other hand, keeping him firmly in place. Mirage tested their hold by wriggling slightly, his arms trapped in front of himself, and they tightened their hold on his neck with a quiet tut in his direction. Mirage sighed, feigning defeat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that your axe or are you just </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>happy to see me?” he teased, throwing a cocky grin their way. Bloodhound huffed out a laugh and Mirage flexed his fingers against the wall. He’d overcome them like this once before and he wasn’t past trying it again. To his surprise, they relaxed their grip on his neck and took a step back, letting him stand on his own. “Uh, what? Isn’t this the part where we have a super sexy fight on the floor or am I missing something? Maybe I wasn’t done being pushed up against a wall by you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound shook their head in amusement and slid their handaxe back into the loop in their belt. “I have missed you,” their voice was soft in a way that told Elliot they were smiling behind the mask. “I simply wished to have a moment alone with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your squad? Don’t tell me that yours also died on drop because that would be really bad luck if it happened to both of us,” Elliot rolled his shoulders, clipping his rifle back out of his hands. “I mean-uh-no, my squad is so close by. I got so much back up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is alright, darling, I knew you were alone the moment I saw your first line of defense,” Bloodhound jerked their head towards the vault’s doorway where Elliot could see his single decoy, still standing in the same spot he had left it. It was stuck against a rock, cycling through several animations and shimmering around the edges in the darkness. “Did you really think that he would fool anyone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! You leave him alone. He’s trying his best,” Elliot pouted and reached out for the front of Bloodhound’s coat, pulling them closer towards him. He let himself fall back against the steel wall, Bloodhound pressing into his front again. “So are you gonna sell me out to your squad?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I believe I am still deciding,” Bloodhound said, their tone sly. Their gloved hand came up to hold him by the jaw, tilting his head down to look at them. “They think I am checking to see if the vault has been disturbed. If I do not tell them what I have discovered, what is in it for me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot let go of their coat to let his hands trail up to the bottom of their mask. His hands moved slow, giving them plenty of time to protest as he unclipped the rebreather and slid it down until it rested against their chest. It left them in their goggles and the top of the helmet that they always wore, the tiny charms clinking together as their head tilted to the right. Elliot’s stare was stuck on Bloodhound’s mouth, now exposed and pulled up into a smile. He tangled his fingers back in the front of their coat and tugged until they were close enough to go almost cross eyed behind those goggles trying to meet his gaze.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was thinkin’ maybe I could trade you a kiss?” Elliot whispered, closing the gap between them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s boots made up enough of their height difference to make it easier on Elliot as he leant down to kiss them, their hand still fixed on his jaw. Their other hand came up to hold his face as the two of them kissed and Elliot tugged them even closer. Their kiss started out innocent enough but somewhere along the line, Bloodhound’s thigh slipped between Elliot’s and he gasped, his head thudding back against the wall. Bloodhound’s lips moved to his neck, kissing up his throat with a smile. Elliot thanked whatever God watching that the gamemakers never set up cameras inside the vaults.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, when we were put on diff-d-different squads, I didn’t think I’d see you at all,” Elliot said, breathless as Bloodhound dragged their teeth along his jaw for a moment. “I didn’t think I’d get t-this lucky.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps it was the God’s will for our paths to cross,” Bloodhound murmured, their lips suddenly mere millimetres from Elliot’s again. When Elliot pushed forward to kiss them, they pulled back just out of reach and he groaned. Their grin in response was mischievous. “Perhaps if time is on our side, we could-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s comms piece crackling had the two of them jumping apart like misbehaving children caught doing something wrong. Elliot’s head spun as he kept himself steady, Bloodhound listening to the voice talking in their ear. Their mouth pulled down into almost a pout and they replied back quickly, telling their squad they would be returning soon. They turned back to Elliot, sighing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Duty calls?” Elliot asked ruefully. Bloodhound pressed back against his chest for a moment, resting their forehead against the front of his suit. He rested his chin on top of their helmet piece, his arms wrapping around them in a quick embrace before they pulled away. “You still gonna let me go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound laughed quietly, pulling their rebreather up and clicking it back in place. Elliot immediately missed seeing their smile. They unclipped something from their belt and stepped forward, attaching it to Elliot’s. When he looked down, he saw the shine of a new knockdown case against his tactical belt. “You’d best be moving along, </span>
  <em>
    <span>lítill </span>
  </em>
  <span>Loki. Before my </span>
  <em>
    <span>felagí </span>
  </em>
  <span>fighters realise I have betrayed them for a kiss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coulda been a lot more than a kiss, sweetheart, but your squad has other plans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s shoulder shook with silent laughter as they pulled their gun off of their back and headed for the vault door. It made Elliot’s heart flutter in his chest to see them so at ease in the games. They usually put on such a stoic front for the cameras that it made him feel a sense of pride to make them laugh so often, even if it was out of eyesight from the audience. Bloodhound stopped in the doorway, turning back to face Elliot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good luck, my love. May the God’s bless you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elliot nodded quickly. “And, uh, you too!” Bloodhound turned to leave and he jumped forward. “Hey! You want to grab dinner tonight? Maybe we could go back to mine after? Watch a movie or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bloodhound’s back was to Elliot but he saw them nod slowly. Artur swooped in from above, where Elliot assumed he had been keeping watch, and landed on Bloodhound’s forearm. They scratched gently under his beak and turned their head to the side so Elliot could hear them clearer. “Yes. I would like that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They left Elliot alone in the vault, smiling like an idiot to himself. He gave them a head’s start before leaving the tunnels back the way he came to avoid running into their squad. The weight of the knock down against his hip was a reminder of their interlude in the vault as he walked towards the next ring. Even with his second chance, Elliot wasn’t entirely bothered about how the game turned out. Whether or not he ended up winning, Elliot didn’t care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had a date to look forward to.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>AND ITS DONE...........this fic took me a whole year to write and it feels so weird to have it all out there ;____; I am so grateful for all of the wonderful comments &amp; nice things ppl have sent to me &lt;33 ur all so lovely I have so much fun replying to all the comments... </p><p>please come n talk to me on <a href="https://twitter.com/wrenchjnr">twitter!</a> I'm most active on there! </p><p>I also have a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2FKOTqghlvnJItRVY5Yah5?si=OLtAyauZSjyqa3gVSFIxcQ">playlist</a> for the fic if anyone was interested! it has all the songs that the chapters are named after + some extras that I thought fit in &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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